Lost and Found
by Wai-Jing Waraugh
Summary: A series of one-shots, wherein a lost or misplaced item leads Ladybug and Chat Noir to discover each other's secret identities. Chapter Thirteen: Shirt - Ladybug is not pleased when she finds out Chat Noir has been hiding an injury from her. She is even less impressed when she finds a blood-stained shirt in Adrien's locker.
1. Phone

**Lost and Found**

 _Author's note: this story collection was partially inspired by theinkwell33, whose awesome series of reveal-themed one-shots I've been following. The idea for my own series of one-shots came about when I watched the 'Antibug' episode (one of my favourites!) and wondered 'did Marinette ever get her phone back? What if Chat Noir found it instead?' From there, I started wondering about random items in the Miraculous universe, thinking up ways different lost or misplaced items might lead Adrien and Marinette to discover who the other is._

 _I've got ideas for about a dozen more chapters. I don't know how often I'll update, since this first one-shot on its own is incredibly long - my one-shots are about the size of cannon balls! - but I'll try to knock over a new one every so often. Some will be more serious, some will be funny; some will feature prominent objects from the series, others items I might make up from scratch. It should be a pretty good mix!_

 _I also have a full-length multi-chapter Miraculous story in the works, so if you like this fic, please check that one out as well! I love getting reviews, though I probably won't take requests or suggestions for this series - I've got too many ideas already! So sit back and read, I hope you enjoy! ~ W.J._

* * *

 **Chapter One: Phone**

 _Set immediately after 'Antibug'. Marinette used a recording on her phone to distract Antibug long enough to save Chat Noir. In her rush to change into Ladybug, defeat the akuma and get back to school, she forgot to retrieve her phone - allowing Chat Noir to find it first!_

* * *

Ladybug swung off the edge of the hotel roof.

Geez, what a day! She was glad the fight was over, and she could finally slip away. Not only had she had to fight _two_ akuma in quick succession - one of which she had inadvertently caused! - but her transformation had run out right in the middle of it. Of course, right at that moment her partner had gotten himself into a fix, and she'd had to go rescue him without using her Miraculous.

She sighed tiredly as she mechanically leapt and tumbled over rooftops, her mind elsewhere. After everything that had happened, it was _that_ particular incident that made her so relieved to get away. Having Chat Noir address her as 'my Lady' as she stood there out of costume, hauling him safely back onto the hotel balcony without the aid of super-strength, all while reporters paced below and helicopters circled overhead - _that_ was easily one of the most nerve-wracking moments of her life!

She felt a bit guilty for avoiding Chat Noir like this - true, her Miraculous was about to run out, but she had still left rather abruptly. They were a team, and she trusted him, but... being so close to him when she was de-transformed had made her feel incredibly vulnerable. When she had explained the situation to him while she hastily untied him, he had promised not to turn around until she'd had time to hide. Terrified that she would come face-to-face with Antibug as soon as her diversion was discovered, she was grateful to him for luring the villain onto the roof, giving her time to transform. He really had her back, but...

It was no secret that he wanted to know who she was beneath the mask, and reveal who _he_ was in turn - much to her dismay. She couldn't stop thinking about how easy it would have been for him to turn around and see her as herself, though she had told him not to. She didn't really think he would do that - still, it wasn't a situation she wanted to repeat again in a hurry!

At least it was all behind her now. She couldn't relax just yet, though; it was probably around lunchtime, meaning she would be due back at school soon. If she was lucky, she would have just enough time to race home and grab something to eat. With a grimace, she remembered that she had snuck out of Mrs Mendeleiev's class. Alya would be wondering where she had gone, she really ought to ring her and-

She skidded to a halt. The roof beneath her was a steep one; she had to snag the nearest chimney with her yoyo and anchor her feet on the slippery tiles to keep from sliding off. She stood stock-still, clinging to her line, an aghast expression on her face.

 _She had forgotten to go back and get her phone!_

Her Miraculous beeped, reminding her that she only had two minutes left before her transformation ran out. It probably wasn't enough time to race back to the hotel, get her phone, and get away again without being seen - not with media crews still swarming the place!

With another sigh, she dove over the eaves in a controlled somersault, reeling off just enough slack from her string to reach the ground. Her earrings beeped again as her feet touched the pavement of a secluded alleyway. Her best option was to revert back to her ordinary self, grab something to eat - for herself and her kwami - from some place nearby, then head back to the hotel as Ladybug to retrieve her phone, all hopefully without anyone noticing her blunder.

She rubbed her head tiredly as she prepared to release her transformation. With everything else that had happened, this was the last thing she needed!

At least she knew that Chat Noir wouldn't still be hanging around - his Miraculous must be about to run out, too.

* * *

Chat Noir vaulted off the edge of the hotel roof.

Man, what a day! He had let _two_ akuma get the better of him - one of them while his Lady had been depending on him! His shame at his inadequacy was tempered by the fact that he had helped her conceal her identity. Still, it had been so tempting, knowing that she stood behind him with her face uncovered, dressed in her civilian clothes; he could have _so_ easily turned around, and seen-

He knew that cats were naturally curious, but he was disappointed in himself for even _considering_ such a betrayal!

He had definitely had enough for the day. After watching Ladybug depart, he had wasted a whole precious minute while Chloe, freed from the akuma's influence and flattered by Ladybug's compliments, began to outline all the different ways she might help the duo with future opponents. He wouldn't wish Chloe's help on his worst enemy - then again, she certainly _had_ helped Papillion out plenty, given how many akuma she had personally contributed to! That mouth of hers was quite a weapon; it had taken several attempts before he had managed to get away from her.

Hopefully, two akuma in one day was the limit; he had already missed enough school. It must be lunchtime by now, and he was more than ready to-

 _Huh...?_

He leaned back slightly in mid-vault, stopping his forward momentum. Balancing expertly atop his extended staff, he retracted it, lowering himself directly onto the balcony below. When he had looked down to make sure he had a steady base to launch from, he had noticed something down there, glinting in the noon sunshine.

His feet softly hit the floor; he took a step forward and picked up the mysterious item, which had no logical reason for being there.

It was a discarded mobile phone.

* * *

Ladybug cursed roundly to herself.

She had released her transformation, then raced into the closest convenience store to buy more cookies for Tikki, and the first sandwich she had laid hands on; she had crammed it in her mouth without noticing what kind it was. Once Tikki had recovered, she had transformed again and swung back to the hotel, feeling harassed and time-poor, but confident that she had things under control. Soon, she could go back to her ordinary day-

... except that her phone was no longer where she had left it.

Her mind was instantly a whirl of possible scenarios, each more terrible than the last. What if some well-meaning hotel employing had picked it up? What if a journalist had pocketed it? _What if Chloe had kept it?!_

This was a disaster - it wasn't Ladybug's phone, but Marinette's! All anyone had to do was look through her stored data - text messages, contacts list, photo albums, _anything_ \- and there would be more than enough there to reveal who she was. She could just see the headlines now:

 _'Ladybug Loses It! Misplaced Phone Reveals Super-Heroine's Identity As Forgetful Girl!'_

A Marinette-style panic attack threatened to overtake her, but she fought it down. Luckily she was still Ladybug, able to think it through calmly and logically. She hadn't used a Lucky Charm, so she wasn't seeing her 'lucky vision'; nevertheless, a flapping curtain just beyond the balcony caught her eye. Landing neatly on the window sill beside it, she saw exactly what she had hoped to see: a deserted hotel room, with a landline-phone sitting on the nightstand.

She stepped down into the room and strode over to it. With any luck, her phone had just been knocked aside or slipped under some patio furniture; if it was still nearby, she might hear it ringing.

* * *

Adrien stared at the phone in his hand as he absently chewed his food. Plagg was devouring a cheese plate, which Adrien had ordered for him and up-ended into his school bag when he thought no one was watching.

Once he had discovered the phone and made up his mind what to do with it, he hadn't had enough time to make it home or back to school before his transformation wore off. He'd decided to stay and eat lunch at the hotel's restaurant; since Alya's mother was head chef there, he had been meaning to try it out anyway. So far, though, he'd been far too distracted to pay any attention to his meal.

He knew he stood out here - lunching businessmen were the only other customers, so they were probably wondering how a school kid like him could afford to eat at a place like this. He had drawn disapproving stares when he had unlocked the phone to find a video open in its web browser; unwittingly hitting 'play', Ladybug's voice had loudly announced ' _Chat Noir and I, we're a team!_ ' to the surrounding tables.

That concluded what he had already suspected: _this was Ladybug's phone!_

She must have used it to distract Antibug, then left it behind when she went to rescue him. She apparently hadn't come back to collect it afterwards. Was she looking for it even now? He kind of wanted to go back up to the balcony, in case she was; but he couldn't do that as Adrien, and he had no hope of separating Plagg from his camembert anytime soon. He felt kind of bad for picking it up, but reasoned that it was better _he_ had it than anyone else. What if _Chloe_ had found it?

How could he get it back to her? Maybe later Plagg would agree to transform him again, and he could use the phone in Chat Noir's staff to call h-

He nearly jolted right out of his chair, as the phone suddenly started ringing in his hand.

He spent several long seconds frozen, undecided about what he should do. Should he answer it? What if it was Ladybug? What if it was someone else? What if he inadvertently found out who she was? What if she thought he stole her phone, or hated him for interfering? What if... What if he got kicked out of the restaurant? Diners around him were giving him filthy glares; he really should at least make the phone stop ringing. With a pounding heart, he hit 'answer'.

"Hello?"

Years of professionalism made him answer mechanically; he was used to fielding surprise requests for photo-shoots. His voice sounded a lot calmer than he felt.

"Hello...?" said a girl's voice down the line; he inhaled sharply. "Um, did you find my phone? I misplaced it, and would be very grateful to have it back. It, uh, it's an older model with not much value, but it's important to me. If you could please return it..."

He was momentarily stumped by the tentativeness of the voice on the other end. Listening carefully as she spoke on, though, he recognized it: the same directness, the same inflections, the same polite firmness as she reasoned with him. Yes, it was _Ladybug_.

For the second time that day, he was speaking to a de-transformed, unseen Ladybug.

He felt as if he had a large neon sign over his head that read _'I'm Chat Noir, and I'm speaking to my Lady!'_ Some restaurant patrons were still darting disgruntled looks his way. Hoping no one would think he was running out on his bill, he got up from the table and slipped into the restaurant's private back dining room. He was thankful to find it empty; he had a feeling he might need some privacy.

"S-sure," he replied. He had no idea why he was stuttering; suddenly, he felt like a humanoid bundle of nerves. "I-I'd be happy to return it to you, if you-"

"Great!" The relief in her voice was obvious; her pleased tone made his face feel strangely hot. What was _in_ that food he had just eaten? His stomach felt like it was full of butterflies! "If you could bring it to the T-"

"Wait wait wait!" he all but yelled down the receiver, drowning her out; he was _very_ glad that he had moved into a more secluded spot. It occurred to him, for the first time, that she didn't have a clue who he was - or that he knew who _she_ was.

Geez, how to word this is a way that wouldn't freak her out...? The wary silence on the other end of the line was almost deafening...

"Um... m-maybe I could bring it to you, in a place that isn't too, uh, personal? I-I mean, we decided not to reveal who we are to each other... right, Buginette?"

He didn't have to pretend he was wearing his mask in order to purr out his pet name - _one_ of his pet names - for her, in his accustomed manner. He was so, _so_ glad that no one else was listening in; and he really, _really_ hoped that she had recognized his voice!

There was no response for so long, he wondered if the reception had suddenly dropped out. At last, a hesitant voice slowly said: "...Chat Noir...?"

He grinned, forgetting that she couldn't see him. "At your service, my Lady."

There was another prolonged pause; it was finally broken by a startled gasp, a muffled clatter, and a beeping dial-tone. She had hung up on him.

He lowered the phone from his ear, ended the call at his end, stared blankly at the screen for a moment - and then began to laugh uncontrollably. So his Lady could get flustered! What a welcome discovery - her surprised reaction had been _too_ cute!

He returned to his table and paid the bill, not caring that the other patrons stared at him when he left too many notes and didn't wait for his change. He had better uses for his time. He left the hotel and began the short walk to school - why did Chloe even _bother_ taking a limo over this distance? - his mind fixed on the phone in his hand all the while.

"Well, are you even going to _look_ at it?"

The insolent voice came from the level of his breast pocket, making him look down. Plagg was hovering just inside the folds of his shirt; he had drifted up to sit near his lapel, level with the phone, commanding a clear view of its screen. "This is the just chance you've been wanting, right? You always wanted to know who Ladybug is! With this, think of all the secrets you could-"

"I'm not doing that, Plagg," Adrien firmly interjected - as much to himself as to his kwami. "I'm not going to betray my partner like that. She wouldn't go poking through my things, and _definitely_ wouldn't want me going through hers."

"Spoil-sport," Plagg muttered, ears drooping in disappointment. "You have the perfect excuse, too; you would only be finding out about her so you could return the phone to her. It's the perfect opportunity to-"

"No, I'm not doing it - under any circumstance," Adrien sternly declared. "I'll just hang onto it until I see her next. Unless she calls again, and wants me to-"

"You could at least call her back and make some arrangement," Plagg wheedled, not wanting to be deprived of entertainment.

Adrien shook his head. "That wouldn't do any good. It probably wasn't her number, she could have been calling from anywhere: a public phone, the mayor's office, an empty apartment, her place..."

Her place... some rosy, sweet-smelling place where his Lady lived, perched on a couch - a bed, even - as she spoke to him, personal items scattered around her, her face free from any mask, and... and so, _so_ _beautiful_... The mental image was intoxicating; he lost his train of thought, until Plagg prodded him roughly.

"Well, if you're expecting a call from your Lady Luck, you might want to put her phone on silent."

Adrien came back to himself with a start, and immediately stopped walking; the school entrance was just ahead of him. Plagg had a very valid point. He didn't want to get into trouble for having a phone ring during class - and he _definitely_ didn't want to have to explain to Ladybug that her phone had been confiscated by his teacher! He unlocked the phone's keypad, feeling guilty all the while.

 _It's alright,_ he tried to reassure himself, _you're not snooping, just finding the mute button, then you won't look at another-_

The home screen appeared, and he nearly dropped the phone. Its wallpaper display was a photo of _Alya_.

"Whoa!" Plagg left the cover of his shirt and zipped in for a closer look. "So Ladybug is friends with the reporter-girl?! Who'd've thought!"

Certainly not Adrien; he'd always thought that Ladybug was more exasperated than impressed by Alya's antics. But then, she _had_ personally endorsed the Ladyblog, and given an exclusive interview. Perhaps a lot of Alya's content actually came straight from the bug's mouth?

"I-It's probably just a professional courtesy," Adrien argued. "So she can warn her to stay away from dangerous akuma and keep safe, you know? I doubt they're that friendly, or-"

"You don't think?" Plagg countered, eyeing him sceptically. "Well, Ladybug also has a _text_ from Alya - how much friendlier can you get?"

Sure enough, when he looked down again, the screen informed Adrien that there was an unread text message from Alya, sent almost an hour ago. The first line was displayed: _'Hey where'd u go? U took off just when a-'_ The rest was cut off.

Adrien was stunned. Alya sent Ladybug _texts_? He was her partner, and even _he_ didn't have that privilege, save when he used his staff's communications function to call her during missions. To think that all this time, Ladybug had been corresponding with Alya and hadn't told him...

"I wonder who else you both know?" Plagg mused aloud, gleefully swiping at the screen with his paw.

"Plagg! Don't-" Before Adrien could stop him, a photo of Alya and Marinette, smiling and making peace-signs for the camera, filled the screen.

"Oh-ho, so she knows your 'Princess' too?" Plagg chortled, loving the intrigue more with every new thing he learned.

"That's old news," Adrien said irritably, swatting the kwami back inside his shirt. "She told us to protect Marinette from the Evilstrator, remember?"

"But she has a photo of them both! That looks like she knows them both personally, doesn't it? What are the odds? She might even go to school with them b-"

Adrien abruptly drew his shirt closed, cutting Plagg off. He shut the photo gallery, put the phone on silent, and stuffed it in his bag, striding briskly towards school. He would worry about the phone later - he had half a day of school left to attend! Still, as he sat in his seat, half-heartedly listening to Nino's explanation of what he had missed from Mrs Mendeleiev's class - he'd claimed to his friend that he'd been called away on a sudden photo-shoot, a tired old excuse that still served him well - he couldn't help but repeat Plagg's words to himself over and over:

 _What if she goes to this school...?_

He cast around, listening to the other voices in the room. She probably wasn't in his class, even if she _was_ a student here; and he wasn't supposed to be snooping, but... now that he'd thought of it, he couldn't stop thinking about it, he just wanted to make sure...

He didn't have the benefit of Chat Noir's enhanced hearing, but his own ears were good enough to tune in and recognize the various voices he heard around him. Rose's slightly squeaky, gushing tone didn't match his Lady; nor did Juleka's husky under-breath mutter. Mylene's timid quaver wasn't right, either. He could hear Alix arguing with Kim up the back - surely his Lady wouldn't ever speak as harshly as that, even to Papillion! Chloe and Sabrina were absent, but neither of them could be Ladybug - not unless they could be in two places at once, and fighting themselves! The same was true for Alya - besides, surely she wouldn't dedicate a blog to _herself_! The only other feminine voice in his class belonged to Mrs Bustier, who, since the bell hadn't rung, wasn't present yet... and that was just ridiculous! That was everyone it could possibly be... no, wait, he had forgotten-

"Hey girl, where _were_ you?" Alya called out as Marinette stumbled through the doorway, looking sweaty and dishevelled. "When you didn't come back to class I sent you a text, but-"

"Yeah, s-sorry," Marinette murmured, clambering past Adrien and sliding into her seat just behind him. "I didn't mean to take off without telling you. While I was in the bathroom, Maman called; she heard that Chloe was getting hassled by a super-villain and wanted to make sure I was okay. It was nearly lunch anyway, so I went straight home , since she was so worried. I figured you would skip out too, as soon as you heard the news."

"No way - Mendeleiev wouldn't let anyone else go out after you!"

Sitting in front of them and listening discreetly, Adrien ducked his shoulders in guilt. He must have excused himself just before Marinette did; Mrs Mendeleiev was strict and didn't allow too many people to take bathroom breaks at the same time during her class. Whoops...

"Did you hear all about the latest akuma?" Alya was asking her friend.

"Y-yeah, it was on the midday news. That's why I was almost late getting back, I was watching updates and lost track of time-"

"- and of your phone?" Alya teased. Adrien grinned; sometimes Alya doted on Marinette like a second mother - which was perhaps justifiable, given how absent-minded the girl could be. Once, she had accidentally wandered into the boy's bathroom while he was in there, and she-

"Wait, did you _really_ lose your phone?"

Adrien tensed all over. Was he becoming obsessed? He must be so preoccupied with Ladybug's phone, he was seeing undue significance in _everything_. It meant absolutely nothing that Marinette had lost her phone as well! She seemed to forget or misplace things all the time, so losing a phone certainly wasn't unusual for her. It happened to the best of them; it had happened to him, and even to Ladybug...

He tried to stop listening. He turned sideways in his seat, nodding at Nino to show he was still paying attention to his rundown of Mendeleiev's homework. Nevertheless, Marinette's reply caught his attention against his will.

"Y-yeah... If you sent me a text, that's why I didn't reply. I think I left it at home, probably..."

"It didn't just slip into another compartment of your bag, did it?" Alya helpfully suggested. Adrien smiled ruefully to himself; he'd done that himself, and felt like such an idiot afterwards!

"N-no, I looked all through my bag, it must be-"

"Maybe your parents will find it at the bakery? I can call it and help them-"

"No, wait, don't-"

Adrien froze in place. He forgot to blink. He forgot to breathe. He didn't trust himself to move, to speak, to do anything but remain perfectly still. He was far too conscious that he could feel, through the leg of his jeans and the canvas of his bag, _a phone vibrating against his right shin!_

"Hmph, it's not in the classroom." As if from a long distance away, he heard Alya speaking; there was a slight clatter as she put her own phone back down on her desk.

"It's p-probably just at home, so... please, d-don't call it again, it'll only bother my parents!"

"Okay, as long as you think that's where it is. I hope some creep didn't steal it from you!"

"Y-yeah, me too."

He wished Marinette wouldn't stutter so much - she was doing it even more than usual. It was putting all kinds of strange thoughts in his head. If her phone was missing... and Alya had called it... and Ladybug's phone had started ringing in his bag... But surely that was just a coincidence... maybe Alya had just called the wrong number? 'L' and 'M' would be next to each other in her contacts list, so... yes, that was probably it... it couldn't be that... _she couldn't be-_

"Dude, are you alright?"

Adrien jumped when Nino tapped him lightly on the arm. "Wh- huh- wha-?!"

"Man, you were spaced out!" Nino gazed concernedly at him. "Are you okay? You look like someone just stuck you with a pin!"

"Y-y-yeah, I'm fine..." Thankfully, his mind tended to work on its own sometimes; he hastily cycled through his list of ready excuses, selecting something appropriate at random. "Just trying to remember my spoken-Mandarin vocab for my test this afternoon."

"Geez, your life, dude!" Nino spluttered, giving a pitying shake of his head.

At that moment the bell rang, saving Adrien from having to elaborate his lie any further - or from having to listen to any more of the girls' conversation. He was glad, because it was doing his head in! The more he listened, the more he was becoming _convinced_ that Marinette - of all people, _Marinette!_ \- was actually _Ladybug_...

The afternoon lesson didn't help take his mind off things. The whole class was still distracted by having had not one, but _two_ of its students possessed by akuma - Chloe and Sabrina were still conspicuously absent - so Mrs Bustier had a great deal of trouble getting everyone's minds back on task. At one point, she asked Alya to read aloud from the textbook; judging by the sounds of a phone-charm jangling and something hurriedly being stuffed into a zippered compartment, she had been reading news reports on her phone instead of paying attention. There was a busy rustling of pages directly over Adrien's head, then a slight scraping as a book was stealthily slid across the desk behind him. After a few false-starts, Alya began to read from the correct point.

Adrien somehow _heard_ Marinette give her best friend an encouraging smile. Though he knew it wasn't directed at him, he felt himself turning bright red, from the roots of his hair right down to the back of his neck. He silently prayed that a hole would open beneath him and swallow him up before she noticed his blush. How could he have sat in front of her for so long, and not paid attention to _that voice?!_ To think that she could be... that his beloved Lady might have been... that she could have been so close, _sitting right behind him...!_ Just when he thought he might pass out at the thought of such an incredible possibility, the end bell rang. He began furtively packing his belonging into his bag, careful not to shove his heavy textbook on top of the phone. All the while, his ears were trained on the seats behind him.

"Nice save, Mari! I had no idea where I was supposed to read from, I would've gotten into _so_ much trouble if she knew I was watching a video on my phone with the sound off! Thanks for shoving the right page underneath my nose!"

"Heh, no problem!" _This was bad..._ he was noticing just how attractive her voice was! Soft, but so clear; polite, yet sure and steady... that was the voice he knew so well, that was _her_...

"Seriously, you're the best - you know that, right?"

"Ha, only if _you're_ the best, too! You help me out all the time, don't you? You and me - we're a team!"

 _Thud!_

Adrien involuntarily let go of his bag's strap, dumping it on the floor; he dove after it as if it were made of gold. He hoped hard as he could that the phone hadn't cracked against the floor through the bottom of his bag - he couldn't help it, he had nearly lost it when he heard those words, _those exact words,_ that his Lady had used to describe _him-!_

There could be no mistaking it, not now - _Marinette_ , it had been _Marinette_ all along! His Lady, she was-

"Are you sure you're okay, dude?" Nino asked, hovering nervously at his elbow; he seemed to be half-considering calling a medic. Adrien wanted to scream out that no, he wasn't okay - and yes, actually he was _more_ than okay, because he had _found_ her, he'd finally found _her;_ and it _wasn't_ okay, because all this time she had been right behind him in class, and he-

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," he forced himself to say. He tried to focus on Nino, though he could see Marinette walking out through the door over his best friend's shoulder. _Marinette-! His Lady-!_ He realized Nino was still staring at him, and forced himself to regain some of his customary composure. What could he do now, anyway - run after Marinette, thrust her phone at her, blurt out that he knew her 'secret'? Not the best idea - and what he just might accidentally do, in his current frame of mind! "Hey, I'm really fine," he said with better conviction this time, clapping Nino on the shoulder. "Just a bit... preoccupied."

Nino grinned back at him, though he still looked a little doubtful. "With that crazy schedule of yours, I'm not surprised! You should have more fun, less work at your age - you seriously need to get out more!"

The words struck Adrien, seemingly unrelated though they were. Slowly, a coherent plan began to form in his shock-addled mind...

"Yeah... I think you're right..."

Since he didn't _really_ have any Mandarin lessons that afternoon - and, miraculously, no photo-shoot either - he _would_ get out later... as soon as he had been home long enough to convince Nathalie that he was diligently studying in his room...

* * *

"Why do you need me for this again?" Plagg grumbled, glowering up at him.

"I already explained what we're doing," Adrien replied, in his most appealing tone, trying not to let his impatience show.

The kwami huffed, tiny paws folded. "You're not supposed to use your powers for selfish reasons, you know."

"It's _not_ selfish, I'll be doing it to help Ladybug. Marinette. Both- I mean, _her_." It felt odd, referring to them as the same person out loud; even though he was absolutely _sure_ of it now. He glanced around cautiously, making sure the alley behind the bakery really was deserted. He was overly conscious of how much time had passed since they had first got here. From across the street, he had used his phone's camera to zoom in on an upstairs window above the bakery. He had seen Marinette in there, her head bent, frowning in concentration - such a familiar sight, now that he only realized it! - probably doing her homework. Oh yeah, she must have missed Mrs Mendeleiev's class, too!

He hoped she'd be there doing it for a while longer; his whole plan hinged on her being close enough to hear it...

"You're not supposed to use me to play messenger-boy," Plagg griped some more.

Adrien sighed in exasperation. This called for desperate measures; luckily, he had come prepared. "That's a shame," he said, in mock-disappointment. "I was willing to make it worth your while..." He held up a wedge of cheese he had been hiding - carefully double-wrapped in aluminium foil - in his jeans pocket.

Plagg's eyes went as large and round as wheels. "Is that...?" he asked, a spot of drool forming in the corner of his mouth.

"Special edition, vintage extra-aged, super-soft centre, awarded blue-ribbon status by the Parisian Fromage Association," Adrien smugly boasted. He knew he was _terrible_ for manipulating his kwami like this - but it was for a good cause! "Do we have a deal?"

Plagg held out for a few agonized second, then inevitably crumbled. "Deal!" he declared, zipping toward the cheese so fast, he was momentarily a black blur. Adrien had to yank his fingers away to avoid getting them nibbled. "So good!" the kwami sighed between mouthfuls. "The richness, the creaminess - that subtle bite, that hint of tang! Who knew such perfection really existed..."

Adrien grinned with satisfaction: Stage One of his plan was complete. Plagg was happy; soon, he would be happy too - and, hopefully, so would Ladybug.

"Well, time to hold up your end of the bargain. Plagg, transform me!"

* * *

Marinette leaned her head in her hands, heaving a deep sigh. How could she possibly focus on the school work she'd missed when her mind was currently one constant, frantic clamour? She had somehow managed to make it through the rest of the school day - to her wry amusement, Alya had been even more distracted by the akuma attack than _she_ was! - but now that she was released to her own devices, her thoughts were all on her lost phone. Now that she had the time to do something about it, she had no idea what to do - and it was driving her mad!

"Cheer up, Marinette," Tikki said, leaving behind a plate of fresh cookie-crumbs to nuzzle up against the girl's cheek. "I'm sure Chat Noir won't misuse your phone. It's better that _he_ has it than anyone else. What if someone else had found it - like _Chloe_?"

Marinette shuddered at the thought. "I know, Tikki, but... I still can't help worrying. Not when he has something of mine that's so... _personal_. I mean, he's said before that he wants to know who I am. He may have good intentions, but Chat is only human; it's got to be some pretty strong temptation. What if he-"

She stopped abruptly in mind-sentence. She could hear a phone ringing somewhere, and the ringtone sounded _very_ _familiar._..

On the opposite street corner, Adrien was trying to keep one eye on the bakery rooftop; he was otherwise watching his phone's call screen with bated breath.

"That's it?" Plagg asked incredulously from inside his shirt. He had just been released from Adrien's Miraculous and was making a show of smoothing down his fur again, unamused at having been used for such a simple errand. "You gave it back to her - just like that?"

"Yes," Adrien said in a low whisper, as he pressed the phone to his ear, listening to it ring with his heart in his mouth. He could hear the phone's high-pitched trill from across the street, so there was no way she could miss it. "It was my duty as her partner to return it to her." With that accomplished, now he was doing his _second_ duty: apologizing to her for learning the truth. At least, he _would_ do it, if she ever picked up...

Marinette rifled through the things on her desk, up-ended her bag onto the floor, tossed piles of clothes around - all in vain. How could her phone _possibly_ be here? And if it _was_ here, where exactly _was_ it?!

She realized the sound was coming from above her and was slightly muffled, as if she was hearing it through a closed door. _The hatch_ -!

She thrust the trap door open and climbed out onto the patio. _There_ was her phone: sitting on the table, ringing loud and clear, rattling with each vibration. It must be about to ring out-!

She dove for it, having no time to look at the caller id as she hit 'answer'. She reluctantly held it up to her ear. "Hello...? Who is th-"

"Are you the rightful owner of this phone, Princess?" said a familiar voice. Marinette froze; she felt all the colour drain from her face. "I found it on a balcony," the voice went on, "so I thought I'd _leave_ it on a balcony. It _is_ yours, right?"

There was no mistaking that self-satisfied purr. Marinette forced her dry mouth to form words. The shock was wearing off - and she was starting to get angry. "This had better not be a prank call," she snapped into the speaker.

Adrien winced. She could see her, standing up there on the rooftop; from the set of her stance, he could tell she was mad. The hostility in her voice confirmed it.

"No, it's not," he said, with every ounce of sincerity he had. "I'm sorry, my Lady, but... please believe me when I say that I found out who you are entirely by accident. I found your phone, and was hanging onto it for safe-keeping, but I just happened to glance at the screen, and- well, let's just say there was enough for me to work it out. To work out that... that it's you, Marinette... that you're my Lady..."

Marinette scowled at his words - what on her phone's home screen could _possibly_ be so revealing? - but was too dismayed to fire another barrage back at him.

"I guess... it's better that you found out over anyone else," she managed to say.

"Perhaps." Though it was a serious moment, Adrien couldn't help but smile. Bravely facing down a tough situation - that was just like his Lady!

She heard the smirk in his voice; her anger returned ten-fold. "Still, you did the wrong thing, Chaton. We made an agreement! By breaking it, you have betrayed my trust, intruded upon my personal life, jeopardized what we-"

Adrien pulled a pained expression - he had worried that it would be like this! Still, to think it was _Marinette_ up there, scolding him just like his Lady-!

"I know, I know," he hastily intervened, "and I can't begin to apologize enough, Ladybug. _Marinette_."

She had opened her mouth to talk over the top of him, but as he said her name - her _real_ name - she faltered. She really _was_ upset with him, but he sounded so... so genuinely _sorry_. She hadn't been expecting that.

"Please say that you can forgive me...?" his voice timidly pleaded.

Marinette swallowed hard. She felt like screaming, kicking something, throwing her yoyo at the first poster of Chat Noir she saw- but deep down, she knew it hadn't been his fault. Not really.

"I guess I forgive you, Chaton," she said, once she'd taken a moment to calm down. "You didn't really do anything wrong - it was _my_ fault for leaving the phone there in the first place. I'm glad that _you_ found it, before somebody else could."

Adrien grinned from ear to ear. That was _her_ , that was the Ladybug he knew and loved-! "Thank you, Buginette - though I don't really deserve your forgiveness. But I'm going to do all that I can to make it up to you."

"Make it up...? How-"

"It's unfair, my Lady. I did something you didn't want me to, and I can't undo it. I would if I could, but... the only thing I can do is try to make it right between us again. We're a team, you and I - and everyone on a team should be _equal_."

She chuckled a little; despite herself, his words were softening her. "There's no 'i' in 'team'?" she suggested.

Adrien laughed too; the playfulness in her voice reassured him. "No 'i' in 'team' - though _I_ am in your neighbourhood right now."

" _What-!_ " He heard her startled yelp from across the street; he had to bite his lip to keep from chuckling again. He supposed it was mostly nervous laughter.

"Yes, I delivered your phone to you, then stuck around for this. It's unfair, my Lady - I know who you are, but you don't know who I am. I don't want to have the advantage over you like this. Admit it, not knowing _would_ start to get to you eventually; I'd be able to pick you out in a crowd, and you would have absolutely no idea if I was even there. You'd constantly be looking over your shoulder, and I wouldn't want to worry you like that."

He was right, that scenario _did_ sound pretty awful! She was frankly touched that he was so concerned about her; she had expected him to be gloating over his precious knowledge. How well did she really know him? And what was he...?

"That's why I planned it like this, Marinette. I'm near your place right now - just across the street. In a moment, I'm going to walk around the corner, and you'll be able to see me. You don't have to look if you don't want to, but..." He was tempted to beg her to, but knew he couldn't; instead, he said: "...but this is a chance for us to be equals again. You can trust me to protect your secret identity; and I want to put my trust in _you_."

Marinette didn't reply. She really didn't know what to say. She stared mutely at Tikki, who had been hovering concernedly near her throughout the conversation. She didn't dare look out over the railing of her balcony... what if he was already-

"Are you ready, Ladybug?"

His use of her super-heroine name jolted her out of her stupor. This was her Chat Noir that was talking to her; he was _reaching out_ to her. They were a team, and there was no way she would ever push him away. It was time to prove just how much she trusted him - and that he could trust in _her._

"Ready, Chaton."

As her words reached him through the phone, he smiled, trying to conjure up a confidence he didn't feel. "Okay, here I come..."

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, letting herself prepare... and then stepped around the corner.

He thought that she might refuse to look; but then he spotted her face peering down at him. Marinette was confused at first - how did Adrien just happen to walk around the corner, at the same time Chat Noir said he would be there? - but then she realized that he was walking straight towards the bakery, smiling up at her, a phone pressed to his ear... and the real meaning clicked into place.

Everything seemed to come crashing to a halt around her. She was aware of nothing else, except Adrien walking towards her. He crossed the road and stopped at the edge of the curb, far enough away for him to still see her over the railing. She looked stunned.

"...A-Adrien...?" he heard her stutter over the phone, almost too softly for him to make out.

He grinned up at her, giving a little Chat-like salute. "Hello, Buginette."

She felt like she was sleep-walking. That was the only explanation; it _had_ to be a dream. Looking for confirmation, she lowered her phone, finally looking at its screen for the first time since she had answered it. The display insistently blazed back at her startled eyes: 'Adrien calling', with his profile picture next to the phone icon.

Marinette stopped working. Her mind, possibly her heart and breath - even her _fingers_ stopped working. The phone slipped from her grasp, tumbling over the edge of the balcony.

Adrien felt incredibly lucky; either he had built up fast reflexes from all those fencing lessons, or Chat Noir's instincts momentarily took over. He darted forward, catching the phone as it fell. He grasped it by the centre of its screen, accidentally ending the call. _Just as well,_ he thought to himself, hanging up on his end, tucking both phones safely into his pockets. After all these phone-calls back and forth, he wanted to talk to her in person.

For the second time that day, he sidled down the alleyway behind the pastry shop. "Plagg-" he began.

The kwami drifted out of his shirt before he could continue, a morose expression on his face. "You'd better have the rest of that cheese ready for me when we get back," was all that he said.

* * *

Marinette leaned out over the railing as far as she dared. Tikki was perched beside her, looking over the edge as well.

"I think he caught it, Tikki, but where is he...? W-what if it hit him on the head? Can you see him down there? Maybe I should-"

"Looking for me, Princess?"

"Gah-!" Marinette whirled around as a clawed hand grazed her shoulder. She might not have been Ladybug right then, but she brought her hands up in a guard position nonetheless. Chat Noir hastily backed away, hands up-raised in a placating gesture. "Whoa! It's _definitely_ you, my Lady!"

"Chat Noir?" Marinette said, uncertainly. She was studying him carefully as her heart pounded, looking at the black cat-suit for some trace of a familiar white shirt. "You... you're Adrien...?"

"Um, yeah, I..." In a moment, all Chat's usual bravado was gone. He glanced at the windows of the surrounding buildings, then stepped back into the shadow of the awning. There was a flash of green light, and then... Adrien stood there, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, in a gesture that was so characteristic of him - of _both of them_ , she realized for the first time - there could be no mistake.

Plagg was hanging in the air beside him, wearing a sulky pout. Tikki tactfully intercepted him, guiding him to a remote corner where the two kwami could catch up together. Their Miraculous-holders needed plenty of space to sort themselves out.

Adrien felt trapped on the tiny balcony. He didn't know what to say or do next. He had planned to just respond to however Marinette reacted, but... for now, all she was doing was staring at him in obvious shock.

"Um, here..." he said, taking her phone from his pocket and holding it out to her. He attempted a breezy chuckle. "That's the second time I've brought it up here..." He gazed intently at her, looking for signs of life. No, not a blip. Was she scared? Angry at him? What should he _do_?

"Uh, I-I'd really like to apologize," he said, hoping that filling the silence might somehow hope. "I put Ladybug's phone in my bag after I found it, in case I had a chance to give it back to her. Um, to _you_. When Alya tried to call you, I couldn't help but notice that Ladybug's phone went off at the exact same time. I saw your photo on the home screen, but I _swear_ I didn't look at anything else. I'm truly sorry, I never meant to-"

He was cut off by Marinette, who had suddenly rushed him. At first he feared that she was trying to throttle him; but after a moment, to his amazement, he realized that she was _hugging him!_

"Thank goodness," she said. Her face was half-pressed into the shoulder of his shirt, muffling her voice. "I had no idea who had my phone, w-who Chat Noir was, and I was _so_ scared... I'm just so, _so_ glad it turned out to be _you_... Adrien..."

Once he grasped the meaning her words, he smiled. He tentatively hugged her back, giving her shoulder a few comforting pats, since she seemed to need it. She stirred then, abruptly coming back to herself; she sprang away from him with a startled squawk. "S-s-sorry, I shouldn't have- I mean, that- I'm sorry, I-"

He chuckled uneasily. It was awkward, but... sort of funny. "T-that's fine. Do you mind, um... if I sit down? We should probably..."

"Y-yeah, sure..."

He sat down at the table, watching as she shakily lowered herself onto the other chair, as if she didn't trust the seat - or herself to find it. He really wanted to say something to set her at ease.

"You know, it was an accident, but... I'm glad I found out it was you, Marinette." She blinked at him as he said her name, but otherwise stared at him with the same stunned expression as before. "It might make things easier," he went on, hoping her trance was only temporary. "I often wondered where Ladybug was when an akuma attacked, if she was okay, whether I should wait for her or go ahead and tackle it as Chat Noir on my own. If I can ring you in future situations like that, it would help a lot."

If she had been thinking clearly, she should have known what was coming next. She had seen that same smug, calculating grin too many times not to realize what it signified: the coming of a pun. "It's good to know I can always call on my call-aborator."

He sat back with a satisfied smirk, waiting. She gave a slight twitch, as if she had just come awake; her eyebrows shot up in an arch look that he was _so_ accustomed to. A disapproving smile quirked her lips up to one side. "So long as you don't call me up just to quote lines like _that_!" she reproachfully told him.

He beamed at her in delight, bowing as low as the table in front of him would allow. "I would never, my Lady - the best ones will be committed to texts, or even emails, depending on the length!"

She gave a slight huff, as unimpressed by his humour as ever. She was still looking at him, still smiling, still working things out - but at least she didn't seem upset. And he wasn't the _least_ bit upset. From here, it could only get easier.

They began to talk - mostly about that day's akuma battle. Marrinette explained how her transformation had run out, what she had done while her kwami recovered. At that point, Tikki flitted over to properly introduce herself and apologize for keeping Ladybug. Adrien described his solo fight with Antibug, admitting hat he had held back a bit for Chloe's sake. Marinette wasn't disappointed in him, much to his relief. It made sense, considering their shared history; he had known Chloe since they were both children, and though they had since grown apart, he still looked out for her. Plagg interrupted to add his account of how pathetic his Miraculous-holder could be - making Adrien groan, Tikki gasp at his lack of tact, and Marinette giggle uncontrollably.

Listening to her peals of laughter, Adrien decided that perhaps tossing all of Plagg's cheese stash in the bin was unwarranted - _perhaps_.

By the time the two of them were comparing how many times they had each slipped into bathrooms to transform, they were chatting away comfortably, laughing together like old friends. Which, when they thought about it, was really what they _were_. Knowing that Adrien was just her goofy, gag-spouting Minou with the addition of a mask, Marinette found that she could talk to him more easily than she ever had. And for Adrien, finding out that his incredible, slightly-intimidating Ladybug was sweet, supportive Marinette out of costume allowed him to express himself freely in front of her, dropping any overt attempts to impress her. They spoke truthfully, candidly, always encouragingly to one other.

At last, as the sun dipped towards the horizon and the surrounding buildings cast shadows across their rooftop, Adrien reluctantly got up to leave; he had to be back before Nathalie summoned him for dinner.

"But we should talk like this again, Marinette," he said, having shushed Plagg's complaints at having to transform _again_ with yet more promises of cheese. "It's good to be able to go over everything together. It's a lot less lonely like this."

"Yes," Marinette agreed, blushing slightly - Adrien wanted to talk to _her_! - but frowning at his words. "You know, you can talk to me whenever you need to, Chaton. _Adrien_." Still hadn't quite wrapped her head around this just yet! "Call me any time you want to discuss things, anything at all - I'll always listen."

He smiled brightly at her. She might have gone weak at the knees, if he hadn't immediately asked: "Even to the puns?"

She pulled an unimpressed face, though she still grinned at him. "Yes, even the puns."

His smile grew a little wider. "Thank you. And you, too; if there's ever anything troubling you, call me up straight away. You can-"

"I've already got your number!" she interjected - then immediately looked panicked, as if she had said something she shouldn't have. Seeing that he was regarding her curiously, she hastily amended: "Y-you called me b-before, so your number w-will be in my..."

"Oh, yeah, right..."

The funny thing was, when Adrien had caught her phone before, he could have _sworn_ he'd seen a picture of himself on-screen just before it hung up, as if she'd already set his profile. But that wasn't possible; he hadn't had her number then, and surely she hadn't had _his_ yet. He must have been mistaken; his inner narcissist, or something...

As he said good-bye to her, got a reluctant Plagg to transform him, and dashed towards home, he reminded himself to someday ask her to take a selfie with him - he definitely wanted one, just like hers and Alya's.

* * *

The next day, when they arrived at school, they studiously avoided speaking to each other. They hadn't called each other again, though they _had_ exchanged several texts throughout the night, disrupting each other's attempts to catch up on Mrs Mendeleiev's work.

Through messages, they had mutually agreed that in order to avoid suspicion, they couldn't let on that they were anything other than classmates, so they _must_ continue on at school as they always had. It was a bit ridiculous, considering how close they really were; separately and privately, they both resolved to extend their civilian relationship to something more than just 'classmates'.

They managed not to give themselves away as they walked into class and took their seats within minutes of each another, giving each other smiles that they hoped outwardly looked just polite. So many unspoken things passed between them as their eyes met.

It was incredible to think that this time on the previous day, they'd had no idea who the other was...

As they both unpacked their things and prepared for class, it dawned on them, at much the same time, that their discretion was unwarranted. The rest of the class' attention was riveted on Chloe and Sabrina, who were haltingly making attempts to reconcile, ignoring the dozen-or-so curious stares they were getting from all directions.

As she watched Chloe hand Sabrina a new brooch with a grudging smile, Marinette grinned to herself. It looked as if the pair's relationship had strengthened; as had another she could think of...

"I think those two will always be friends - in their own way," she said aloud, speaking to Alya beside her. Adrien noted that she seemed to pitch her voice a bit louder than necessary; she was making sure he heard her, secretly including him in the conversation.

"Yeah," Alya replied, with only a hint of scepticism in her voice. She then added: "In any case, I prefer our friendship!"

Adrien chuckled as the girls bumped fists behind him. Marinette certainly had a knack for friendships!

Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Puzzled, he pulled it out and found a text from Marrinette. Attempting to look casual in case Nino decided to peer over his shoulder, he opened it, and read:

' _Ours too, chaton.'_

Grinning to himself, he half-turned in his chair, seeing her smile innocently back at him out of the corner of his eye. He hastily tapped out a reply; a faint buzz, then a hint of smothered laughter, told him that she had gotten it.

' _Couldn't agree more, my lady._ '

* * *

 _Author's note: for those who might be wondering, I'm from Australia, where 'mobile phone' is the common term we use for what some would call a 'cell phone'. Funnily enough, it's the same (though possibly pronounced differently) in French, so that's the word I chose to use for this story; hope it didn't confuse anyone._


	2. Croissants

**Chapter Two: Croissants**

 _Set directly after 'Rogercop'. The akuma took so long to defeat, Ladybug and Chat Noir both skipped lunch! It's just as well that in the confusion, Marinette's papa left the tray of croissants in the classroom, where two hungry heroes find it upon their return..._

* * *

Chat Noir leapt onto the roof of Francoise-Dupont College.

Usually, he might do an unnecessary somersault on his way there, just for its own sake. Without anyone watching and no need to impress, he simply savoured the ease of movement, the freedom of feeling the wind rush through his hair. Today, however, couldn't be bothered with the extra effort.

The empty basketball court beneath him, however, proved too tempting to ignore. He extended his staff through the basket and shimmied down, thinking _'slam dunk!'_ to himself as he slid through the hoop. That was good; he'd have to remember that one, in case he and his Lady were ever near a-

"Goodness, what a day - I'm not at all sorry that it's over!"

Chat Noir froze as a voice suddenly spoke somewhere nearby. He tensed all over; even his tail stuck out straight behind him. This was bad, and completely unexpected - he hadn't counted on anyone else being at school this late! He recovered quickly, darting for cover behind the stairwell that led to the upper floor, just as two sets of feet began to come down it.

"I'm positively aching all over! I suppose it's some small blessing that the pavement outside the College is cleaner than it has ever been-"

Chat recognized the voice of Mrs Mendeleiev, his science teacher; looking through the slats of the stairs, he could see the hem of her white lab coat swishing behind her as she passed him. That's right, she'd gotten handcuffed by Rogercop, forced to pick up litter outside the school - she had even put some on top of _him_ when the villain had knocked him into the garbage bin! Chat quirked a sideways smile at the memory. Mendeleiev taught his favourite subject, so he didn't hold a grudge - besides, it wasn't like she'd had any control over her own actions!

She spoke again, to someone walking beside her. "You must be very tired too, Mr Haprèle."

"Right you are, ma'am," a man's voice replied. Chat Noir gave a jolt. He had seen Mr Haprèle, the school groundskeeper, perform his mime routine twice before - one of those times as an akuma - so it was a bit odd to actually hear him speak out loud! "I like to think that I keep reasonably fit, but I've never run so many laps in my life - I'm exhausted!"

The two adults laughed companionably together, united by their shared misfortunes. Chat Noir grinned along with them. The civilians of Paris were a pretty plucky bunch!

"I hope the headmaster considers upping security measures after this incident," Mr Haprèle went on. "I tried to stop the villain from entering the school, but on my own there wasn't much I could-"

"Oh, I quite agree with you!" Mrs Mendeleiev interjected, in a brisk tone. "As a school, it is our responsibility to keep our students safe as possible during these alarming incidents! I spoke with Ms Bustier recently, she supports my idea of implementing a safe-room somewhere within the school grounds. She thinks the library is the ideal place - she and her students took cover there during the first attack. I just came from seeing with the librarians; they said it was perfectly quiet in there all afternoon, they saw hide nor hair of the intruder. I plan on seeing Mr Damocles tomorrow morning, and I will make sure he knows that-"

Her voice trailed off as the pair left the school's entrance. Chat Noir chuckled to himself - trust Mendeleiev to pressure their conservative headmaster into taking action! Still, he hoped they wouldn't put up security cameras, or post guards along the school perimeter. The last think he needed was more Gorillas dogging his every step - especially when Chat Noir was needed across town and he needed to sneak out!

Speaking of sneaking, he might as well drop his transformation. His Miraculous beeped, telling him he only had two minutes left anyway. Besides, he didn't want to get caught here in costume - Chat Noir had no logical reason to be in school, but Adrien Agreste did!

He reverted back to himself, holding out his hand to catch Plagg as he emerged from his ring. The kwami flopped down heavily, uttering a slight groan. He looked up pleadingly at his Miraculous-holder, the lids over his green eyes drooping with exhaustion. "I'm hungry," he half-heartedly complained.

Usually, Adrien would just roll his eyes at Plagg's constant whingeing. This time, however, he fully commiserated - he was starving himself! He and Ladybug had been kept busy for the better part of the day; Lieutenant Roger had been infected by the akuma mid-morning, and this was the first chance he'd had to take a proper breather. He'd missed two breaks and lunch - no wonder he was ravenous! Though he was used to eating on the run with his busy schedule, he usually followed a strict eating regime that was strategically planned to spread his nutritional intake throughout the day. He already knew, from other times he had skipped out, that he keenly felt the effects when he missed even one of his meals.

The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, however, was not purely caused by hunger; he was dismayed to see the setting sun through the classroom windows. "At least that's all you have to worry about," he groused to his kwami, who had draped himself weakly across his palm. "Nathalie will be putting my head on a platter and serving it to Father if he's noticed how long I've been gone!"

Plagg cracked open the eyes he had closed in a food-deprived daze, gazing up with a glimmer of concern. However, all he said was: "Please give me some cheese before you go to your fate."

This time, Adrien _did_ roll his eyes - typical Plagg! "I've got some in my schoolbag. You can feast on it while I check how many missed calls I've got - and how dead I can expect to be _very_ soon." He was glad he had put his phone on silent, and hoped that Nino had left his schoolbag where it was; the last thing he needed was awkward questions from his best friend about why all his things reeked of camembert!

Clutching his kwami in hand, he headed for the classroom. A few seconds later, a red blur hurtled across the deserted courtyard - and it certainly wasn't a stray basketball.

* * *

Ladybug landed onto the roof of Francoise-Dupont College.

Normally, she might take a second to admire the view of her city, watching dusk's encroaching shadows change the sky into a vivid banner of bright orange and sombre violet. Today, however, she didn't have the time to spare. In fact, the diminishing sunlight would have filled her with dread, if she hadn't been distracted by her disappearing spots.

She dropped over the edge of the roof and swung herself onto the school's upper mezzanine. She only just cleared the railing in time; as her feet hit the ground, her Miraculous beeped and her costume vanished in a burst of rosy light. She had to scramble to catch her kwami, managing to cushion Tikki's fall with her cupped hands as she materialized from her earrings.

"Are you okay, Tikki?" she asked concernedly. She had never stayed in her transformed state for so long - nor seen her kwami so weak afterwards!

"I'm alright, Marinette," Tikki said faintly, managing to lift her head off the girl's palm long enough to give her a reassuring smile. "Just a bit tired... and _hungry_..."

Marinette winced in sympathy - she was famished herself! In class that morning, she hadn't had a chance to help herself to one of her papa's croissants before she dumped them on the floor; and then the akuma attack had kept her busy all through both lunch and afternoon breaks. Her parents and Alya must have been wondering where she was for _ages_...

Forgetting her own worries momentarily, she opened her purse. "Here, I've got some cookies stashed for you." She carefully lowered the kwami into her purse, where several choc-chip biscuits were waiting.

Tikki gratefully seized a cookie, then paused, looking anxiously at her Miraculous-holder. "Do you want one, Marinette? You haven't eaten all day, either."

Marinette bit her lip. It was _very_ tempting, but... "No thanks, you need it more than me; I'll last until I get home. Besides, I should answer my missed calls before I think about anything else. I'm sure everyone is _freaking out_ over where I've been; Papa was at school for Career Day, so when I disappeared, he must've..."

She trailed off, cringing as she pulled her phone out of her purse, taking care not to jostle Tikki. She unlocked the keypad and grimaced. Her homescreen was full of missed calls from both the bakery and papa's mobile, as well as multiple messages from Alya. She tackled the texts first, scrolling through them while she gave herself time to think up a plausible excuse for where she'd been.

 _A - where'd u go? ma is taking us all to the grand for lunch, come along - what til u try her cooking!_

Marinette resisted the urge to moan out loud. She had been busting a gut against the akuma, while everyone else got treated to _lunch?!_ How much more unfair could it get!

 _A - hey, where r u? reply or i'll think the akuma got u!_

She sucked in her breath guiltily. That message had been sent hours ago...

 _A - mari? hello? plz reply, just wanna know ur ok!_

 _A - is adrien with u? he's missing 2 & bustier is freakin out!_

Marinette froze, her insides turning cold. Adrien was missing? Where could he have gone?! She vaguely remembered him leaving the room just after Chloe had accused her of stealing; since she'd been distracted and he'd been waiting on a call from his father all morning, she hadn't paid it much mind at the time. Had the akuma gotten him, kept him handcuffed somewhere at school all this time? If so, he should be free by now; she had just caught a glimpse of Mrs Mendeleiev and Mr Haprèle out in the street on her way here. Perhaps he had just gone home? His bodyguard was pretty protective of him; maybe he'd been picked up from school as soon as the news got out that-

The phone in her hand shuddered, derailing her train of thought; looking down, she saw that a call was coming through from the bakery. Gritting her teeth and trying to prepare what she'd say as best she could, she hit 'answer'.

"Hello, Papa? Yes, it's me, I'm fine, I... I know, sorry, I would've called, but... I didn't mean to worry you or Maman, I just... I, uh, snuck out of the classroom after the akuma came in, thought I could get away and go for help, but he caught me in the library and because I was talking, he put these glowy cuffs on me to keep me quiet, so I couldn't... I know, I would've sent a text, but I was cuffed to the wall and my phone was out of reach, so... Yeah, I'm fine, I wasn't... Yes, I heard from Alya, I'll text her... At school, I just have to get my things, then I'll... No, it's fine, I don't blame you for forgetting! What? The croissants...? Yes, I'll get them too, then... No, I can walk home by myself, it's not that dark yet... Okay, see you soon... Love you too, bye!"

She hung up and heaved a large sigh, slumping against the railing in exhaustion. That had been almost more effort than she could manage on an empty stomach!

"Good job, Marinette," Tikki said, poking her head out of the purse. A morsel of chocolate was stuck to her cheek; she clutched a large chunk of half-eaten cookie. "You did your best to undo your parents' worry!"

"At least I seem to be able to lie under pressure," Marinette grouched, slowly straightening up. "That excuse seemed to fool them, at least. I'll text Alya and tell her the same thing, then I'll-" She was interrupted then, by _herself_ : her stomach gave an insistent rumble. Geez, she really was _starving!_

Tikki giggled sympathetically. "I _do_ still have a cookie left, if you want it!"

The scent of chocolate and the sight of crumbs certainly _was_ appealing; but Marinette shook her head resolutely, turning back to her phone. "No thanks, you go ahead and eat it. I'm going to text Alya, grab my things, and go home for dinner! Besides, Papa left the croissants from his talk in the classroom, he wants me to bring it home with me. Pretty convenient, huh? I reckon I could eat the whole tray right now - even if they _have_ been on the floor!"

Girl and kwami laughed together as Marinette slowly walked towards the classroom, clutching her phone and trying to ignore her stomach's persistent grumbling.

* * *

Adrien stabbed at the screen of his phone with his thumb, ending the call with a loud groan.

Plagg ignored him; from the sounds of it, he was licking up every last particle of camembert from the bottom of his schoolbag. Adrien's things had been left where they were, to his great relief. If Gorilla had come looking for him, he mustn't have known where his classroom was; and obviously, his father hadn't been there, for Career Day or otherwise...

Over the phone, Nathalie had sternly lectured him for falling off the face of the earth for hours on end, but she had accepted his explanation that he had been hiding out at school until the coast was clear. The car was unavailable, collecting Gabriel Agreste from a late-afternoon fitting, so Adrien was free to walk himself home. Usually, he would have cherished having such freedom, or sagged in relief at not being in worse trouble. However, his first thought - a bitter one - was that his suspicions were confirmed: his father had never had any intention of turning up.

He scowled at his phone - then jumped at the sound of a loud grumble that seemingly echoed his thoughts exactly. He ruefully clutched his empty stomach. Perhaps hunger was making him even grouchier than he already was. For possibly the first time in his life, he actually _missed_ having the car; he would have gladly welcomed some means of reaching his pantry as quickly as possible!

At the noise, two pointed black ears emerged from the flap of his bag. "Someone's hungry," Plagg observed, "besides me, of course!" He contentedly licked a stray crumb of camembert off one of his whiskers, then held up a _very_ small wedge of it, offering it reluctantly to his boy. "Want some? Sounds like you could use it _almost_ as much as I could!"

Adrien realized then what dire straits he was in: hungry as he was, the stinky cheese actually smelled _appetizing_! He shook his head before he was tempted to do the unthinkable. "I'll pass, thanks. We're heading straight home after this anyway, before Father gets back and sends out the cavalry. I must admit, though, I'm almost ready to take you up on-"

He stopped mid-sentence, staring at the front of the classroom with a rapt expression. Plagg, bewildered, followed his gaze.

At first, Adrien thought it was a figment of his imagination: a hallucination created for him by his food-deprived senses. Then he caught a whiff of buttery pastry coming from the teacher's desk, and realized that he wasn't seeing things. It was real: a large stack of croissants, laid out on a platter as if they had been personally prepared for him. The golden crescents seemed to gleam with an almost _heavenly_ aura in the last rays of the setting sun. His mouth watered instantly; he had to swallow quickly, reeling a little at the sight. He quickly quashed the notion that it had sprung directly from his mind, pulled into existence by his desire for something of the kind - after all, Plagg was no genie, and despite his hungry thoughts, he hadn't wished for anything out loud!

He only then remembered that Marinette and her father had brought the tray in for Career Day; her family ran a bakery, and they had generously supplied samples for everyone. Adrien had left the room to call his father while Mr Dupain-Cheng was speaking, so he hadn't received one of the offered pastries himself. Though he was still disappointed that his father had bailed on him, this seemed to be some small form of karmic justice!

He approached the tray almost hesitantly, as if the vision might evaporate when he got too close. But no, it stayed put; he had to resist the urge to immediately snatch and start gorging.

"Not going to eat them all, are you?" Plagg asked with a sly chuckle, hovering close to check out what had so captured his attention.

Adrien gave him a sidelong glance; he was in no mood to put up with his kwami's teasing. "Since when are you interested in any food other than cheese?"

Plagg shrugged complacently. "These things might be nearly as good as camembert - they smell as rich, look about the same shape, and they're almost the right colour!"

"Oh, no no no," Adrien protested, imposing himself between Plagg and the platter. He didn't care that he was acting almost as greedy as his kwami - even if there were more than enough pastries for them to share! "You've had your food already, it's my turn now. Besides, this whole incident happened because of you and your obsessive need for cheese - you don't deserve any of this!"

Plagg looked miffed, but tried to appear disinterested. "Eh, whatever. I'd rather not eat something that's been on the floor!"

The same thought momentarily crossed Adrien's mind; but then his stomach growled again, and he decided he honestly didn't care. He paused just once more with a croissant in his hand, raising it half towards his mouth before he questioned whether it was alright to eat something that didn't belong to him.

Well, they _had_ been on the floor - they were probably destined to be thrown away because of it, so didn't that make them fair game? Telling himself he had earned it, he hesitated no longer - he snatched up the pastry and took a large bite out of it.

 _Mmmmmmm-!_

Either he was _really_ hungry, or the floor had done nothing to diminish the taste - it was absolute _heaven_!

He was so wrapped up in his gastronomic bliss, he didn't hear the door creak open.

* * *

Marinette huffed tiredly as she closed her message bank and locked her phone.

During the short walk to the classroom, she had sent Alya a message to let her know she was alive, immediately receiving a barrage of texts back. She had replied to them all as best she could; it had seemed to take slightly more concentration than she could spare!

Especially since her gut had been tying itself in knots, ever since she found out that Adrien was missing.

Alya was with her mother at the Grand Paris. According to her, Ms Bustier was still there, overseeing student pick-ups and making sure everyone was accounted for. Now that they had heard from Marinette, that only left Adrien...

She was slowly starting to panic, wondering if she should transform and go looking for him as soon as Tikki had finished off her cookies. She hadn't seen him in the school after Rogercop arrived, nor anywhere near town hall. Where _was_ he? Was he trapped? Was he injured? Was he-

She slipped her phone back into her purse, pushed open the door to the classroom, glanced around the room - and instantly did a double-take.

 _Whoa_ , she must be even hungrier than she thought she was - the space in her stomach had obviously voided her brain! She could've _sworn_ she saw Adrien leaning against the teacher's desk with her family's platter of pastries beside him, chiselled jaw working busily as he devoured a large croissant.

It was like her brain was subconsciously trying to give her everything that she currently craved! Why wasn't he wearing one of the latest swimsuits from the Agreste range, with tribal paint smeared across his torso and a cloud of glitter shimmering around him? If her weary body and overtaxed senses were going to show her some delirious fantasy, they might as well do it properly!

Since the impossible vision before her didn't waver or fade, she continued to stare at it in disbelief.

After a moment, Adrien looked around and noticed her. He stopped mid-chew.

He _really_ hadn't counted on anyone else being left at school by now, so Marinette's presence took him completely by surprise - of all people, the owner of the croissant he'd just pilfered had caught him red-handed! She was staring at him in wide-eyed silence, and he realized how odd he must look - though really, was it _tha_ t strange to see a teen supermodel eating a serve of sinful carbs like this? Still, he couldn't think of many ways to plausibly explain why he was at school after-hours, in the wake of an akuma attack, calmly eating a discarded croissant - even the truth seemed more than a little doubtful, and he certainly couldn't tell her that he was Chat Noir!

He really ought to do or say something; she was still staring at him as if he had grown two heads. He hastily swallowed, so he at least wouldn't talk to her with his mouth full.

"Uh, h-hi there," he said, giving her a lame little wave. He raised his voice slightly, warning Plagg to hide; a stealthy glance at his bag told him that the kwami seemed to have gotten the message. "I, er, I'm sorry to have taken this-" he held up the pastry "-but they were just sitting here, and I knew it was technically stealing, but I thought no one would miss it, so..."

"Oh! Oh, u-um..." Somehow, Marinette managed to spit out something that resembled a coherent syllable. Unless her hearing was also playing tricks on her, the fantasy-Adrien before her was actually the _real one_! Without taking her eyes off him, she felt for the strap of her purse, reaching down to snap the clasp shut before he could catch a glimpse of Tikki - it was lucky the kwami had already been out of sight! With her Ladybug identity safe and able to breathe relatively easy again, she focused back on Adrien. Something about his sheepish words and embarrassed grin prompted her to speak - he looked as unprepared for this encounter as _she_ was, which was really saying something!

"T-that's fine... W-we, uh, brought them to share with everyone, so y-you're welcome to..."

"Really? Thanks!" He turned his attention back to his snack for a moment, taking a delicate nibble from the flaky pastry - since he had company, he'd best remember his manners! "Would you care to join me?" he asked, gesturing at the platter beside him as he gave a mischievous grin. The irony behind the fact that he was offering her own croissants to her wasn't lost on him; it seemed like as good a way as any to lighten the already-weird scenario!

"Oh, that's, I-" Marinette didn't know how to respond. Unfortunately, at that moment, her stomach answered for her: it rumbled audibly.

There was no way he _couldn't_ have heard it - it was far too loud! In an instant, her face had turned the same colour as her Miraculous suit. Adrien quirked a curious eyebrow at her, then laughed gently - at least he wasn't the only awkward one in this situation!

"Come, be my guest," he said, beckoning to her encouragingly.

"S-s-sure..." With a face that she was sure now bore sizzle-marks from the heat of her blush, she crossed the room and took a seat beside him, the plate of pastries lying between them. It would have been kinder to her madly-thumping heart to simply grab her school-stuff and slink away in mortification; but she couldn't do that without seeming to snub him!

Watching him abashedly out of the corner of her eye as he resumed his meal, she took a croissant of her own. As soon as she bit into it, she _knew_ this was no illusion - she never would've dreamed up a pastry as stale as this! To be fair, the platter _had_ been sitting in the hot, humid classroom all day long, not to mention having been dropped on the floor. The croissant wasn't terrible, by any means - especially considering how hungry she was! - but she knew her papa's best work, and this wasn't it; at least, not anymore. It was a shame, since he'd taken such care in preparing them, as a treat for her classmates! She wanted to make her excuses to Adrien, ashamed that he was judging her family's trade on such a sub-par sample; however, he was munching away with such enthusiasm, she didn't have the heart to speak up.

Adrien realized that he was being very rude - here he was, eating his school friend's food and practically ignoring her! Even if his gratified silence was a wordless compliment to her family's baking, he really _should_ make some attempt at conversation. He hesitantly cleared his throat.

"So, did you hear about the latest akuma attack?"

"Y-yeah," Marinette stammered, caught trying to lick a flake of pastry from her lip before he could notice it. "I-I looked it up on my phone; the news said that Chat Noir and Ladybug took care of it. It's safe to go out now, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it is," Adrien replied carefully. It was surprisingly hard to talk about the latest incident without letting on that he knew more than he should! "I think the danger is past now. Er, that's why I'm here, to collect my school things; in the confusion earlier, I forgot to get..."

"Oh! R-right, me too!" Looking in the direction he had gestured as he spoke, Marinette saw his satchel sitting beside his desk, one place in front of her own schoolbag.

 _Wait, shouldn't she-_

She suddenly remembered the urgency of Alya's text - while Ms Bustier was going frantic across town, Adrien was calmly sitting here beside her! Switching her croissant to her left hand, she reached for her phone. When she unlocked it, she found a new message from Alya, telling her that Ms Bustier had heard from Gabriel Agreste's assistant and Adrien was safe. Marinette could see that for herself! Relieved as she was, she was curious as to what he had been doing away from the rest of the class. If this was going to become a habit, Ladybug might have to keep special watch over him in future!

"W-where were you when the attack was happening?" she asked, proud that she was managing to make normal conversation with her crush - if discussing akuma attacks was a normal pastime in Paris these days!

Adrien's posture stiffened ever so slightly. Had Marinette noticed that he hadn't been with the others? He had already sent several reassuring texts to Nino, but he had hoped he wouldn't have to bluff his absence away in front of anyone else - he didn't have an excuse ready! He said the first thing that came into his head.

"Oh, I-I was at the school office. My father has regulations for my safety that I have to follow; as soon as something happens, I have to hide out in one of the back clerical rooms until the threat is over. I'd rather just stay with everyone else, but that's the protocol he set, and all the teachers enforce it; I don't want to go against my father, so..."

"Oh, I-I see..."

As a matter of fact, Marinette _didn't_ see - if the teachers knew that Adrien had a private panic-room set aside for him, why had Ms Bustier been so worried about him? Did it mean she wasn't aware of this arrangement? But there had already been plenty of super-villains at the school since Adrien's arrival, so shouldn't she know the procedure by now? Surely she would carefully monitor such a prestigious student, so if he really _had_ been safely hiding away-

 _Was he lying...?_

Marinette frowned in confusion; she still felt too light-headed to puzzle this out now, but she was trying. She couldn't see why he might want to tell a fib like that, but his statement contradicted what she had heard from Alya - and she trusted her friend's reportage skills.

 _But if Adrien hadn't been in the school office, nor with everyone else, then where-?_

Adrien was painfully aware that Marinette seemed less-than-convinced by his account of himself. He glanced sideways at her; as he watched, she looked down at her phone, then slipped it away again, frowning at her half-eaten croissant. Did she know something that proved he'd just told a lie? He honestly had no idea what the rest of the class had been doing; all Nino's texts had just berated him for wandering off on his own. Had he unwittingly given himself away?

Wanting to divert attention away from himself, he asked: "What about you? Weren't you with everyone else?"

"Uh, n-no, I-" She was glad she had already invented her version of events, though she still had to scramble in order to coherently recount her fictional ordeal to him. "I was trapped in the library! The akuma caught me trying to call for help; since I wasn't supposed to be talking in a quiet-study area, he put these weird cuffs on me that kept me there and forced me to stay silent. I was stuck there for hours - I only just got away!"

"R-really?" Adrien replied, managing to make himself sound vaguely commiserating. "That's no good..."

No, it really _wasn't_ any good - as an excuse! When he had overheard Mrs Mendeleiev before, she had _definitely_ said that the library had been completely safe the entire time. Had Marinette simply gone unnoticed, trapped and hidden behind a shelf or something? But if she _had_ , the library staff should have seen her at some point, or the akuma - it had been pretty hard to miss! - so surely...

 _Had she just lied to him...?_

He honestly didn't know what would induce Marinette to lie about something like this. He really didn't want to doubt his classmate - especially since she had so furiously accused _him_ of lying when they had first met! - but he had Mrs Mendeleiev on the other side of the argument, and his science teacher was usually beyond reproach! So _why_...

 _If she hadn't been in the library, where had she been?_

Marinette had been secretly hoping for at least some polite sympathy from Adrien; when she didn't get even that, she felt more than a little deflated. She had thought he was nicer than that, but... maybe he didn't believe her? Maybe she was too obviously fishing for reassurance? Maybe he thought she just wanted his attention? She didn't, she hastily told herself - she had come up with her story before she had run him - so why should he doubt her? Did he know something she didn't...?

A wary silence fell between them.

They quietly ate their croissants side by side. Then Marinette, noticing that he had just put the last fragment of his pastry in his mouth, seized the opportunity to turn their discussion back to food. "Hey, um, s-sorry about the croissant... I mean, they were _pretty_ good this morning, but they've gone stale now, and I, er, dropped them on the floor earlier, s-so it probably wasn't very..."

Adrien turned on her in surprise, relieved that she had spoken first - but incredulous at her words. She _had_ to be lying about this, surely! "You're kidding, right? I thought it tasted great - the best croissant I've had in a while!"

"R-r-really?" Marinette resisted the urge to ask him how many croissants he usually ate - not the best question for a professional model! Besides, it wasn't the point - he was finally being nice to her! Perhaps he'd simply been grouchy and hungry before. "O-our fresh-made ones are way better than this..."

"No way!" Adrien patted his stomach contentedly; the croissant he'd just eaten had hit the spot, taking most of the edge off his hunger. "They couldn't be much better than this - it was so good! Even if I wasn't absolutely starving right now, I would have been more than happy to get my 'mitts' on it!"

If he had been thinking clearly, he wouldn't have told such a Chat-like joke about mitts - he regretted it as soon as it left his lips.

But then, he reasoned, what was the harm in saying it? Even Mayor Bourgeoise and Chloe hadn't been there to see the oven-mitt Lucky Charm that Ladybug had used; the only other person there beside himself was Lieutenant Roger, and he hadn't remembered anything after he was released from the akuma's influence. So there was really no danger in saying-

The girl next to him chose precisely that moment to have a coughing fit - she had accidentally inhaled the last piece of her croissant.

"Marinette-! Are you...?"

Of all the extra lessons and after-school classes he was made to do, why were none of them a first-aid course! Since he didn't know the Heimlich-manoeuvre, he settled for gently thumping her on the back, while she spluttered and gasped for breath. After what seemed an age, she finally stopped coughing and sat up, wiping streaming eyes on the back of her hand.

"E-excuse me," she rasped, struggling to clear her throat. "I guess that quip was a little hard to swallow..."

As soon as she said it, she could have bitten her own tongue off. _Why had she said that!_ Just because his half-hearted joke had been a bit like something Chat would say-! But then, how did he even _know_ to make a joke about 'mitts'? No one else had been there to see her Lucky Charm, besides Chat Noir... but _he_ certainly hadn't... had he...?

Adrien realized he was gaping at her. _Did she just say-?_ He was unused to Marinette managing whole sentences in front of him, let alone coming up rejoinders to his puns - and _that_ pun especially! That was the sort of response that Ladybug might-

They both stared at each other in shocked silence, minds whirling.

Realizing he couldn't just gaze blankly at her forever, Adrien attempted to speak; some vague thought about testing her had gradually formed in his mind.

"W-well, I'm glad these pastries were here - it's much better than at Town Hall! Can you believe they had a tea tray, but didn't offer anything to drink?"

Marinette was grateful that he was talking to her again - she had been sure the uneasy silence would go on indefinitely! "Y-yeah, that's a shame! Those poor, thirsty police officers outside could've used a..."

They both jolted upright, as if they had simultaneously received electric shocks.

Adrien shouldn't have known about the tea tray at the mayor's Town Hall office - the one from which Ladybug had borrowed an oven mitt to complete her Lucky Charm...

Marinette shouldn't have known about all the battered and bruised policemen outside Town Hall - the ones Chat Noir had single-handedly defeated in order to provide a distraction...

They stared at each other again in stunned silence, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Pieces of a wholly unanticipated puzzle began to fall between them, forming an unlikely picture that was suddenly all too obvious...

At last, a voice piped up: "Are you going to eat that, or just ogle each other like stunned mullets? If you don't want the rest of those pastries, some of us are still hungry, you know..."

Both of them whipped around to find the source of this wry comment; Marinette bit back a yelp, while Adrien smothered a groan. Plagg was floating in mid-air, a foot away from the tray of croissants.

"What?" he asked his Miraculous-holder, glaring grumpily at him. "You're not eating them any time soon, and I don't like to see a waste of perfectly good-"

"Plagg, you _idiot_!" Adrien turned, taken unawares, as another voice came from somewhere near Marinette. At first he thought her purse had broken and something was falling out the bottom of it; then he realized that a second kwami was phasing through it, flitting over to face Plagg. "You can't just blurt out something like that! They've both had quite a shock, and you're not helping by-"

"Not like we can do anything to help them get over it any quicker," Plagg retorted. "And I'm sick of hiding - there's food out here!"

"Haven't you had enough already?" Adrien asked, silently _begging_ his kwami to stop being quite so blasé about all this - Marinette looked like she was about to pitch over backwards! "I had enough cheese in that bag for you t-"

"Hey, I worked up an appetite today!" Plagg argued right back. "It was _me_ helping you drag your tail-bearing butt around, and I wasn't made to maintain your transformation for hours on end! After the day I've had, it'll take more than an itty bit of camembert to rebuild my strength!"

"...is that true, Tikki?" Marinette found her voice at last; Plagg and Adrien turned to watch her as she gave her kwami her full attention.

Tikki sheepishly rubbed her paws together. "W-well, today _was_ a little bit trying... though Plagg always exaggerates-"

"I do not!" the subject in question protested.

"You do _too_ ," Adrien countered with a smirk, glad to be getting his revenge.

Plagg gave a frustrated sigh. "Look, can we have some or not? You guys still seem to have plenty, so-"

"Uh, s-sure, erm... Plagg, is it?" Marinette shakily gestured towards the tray of pastries. "Feel free to help yourself..."

Plagg regarded her with a gratified glimmer of interest - _heh, this girl wasn't half-bad!_

"Don't tell him that," Adrien groaned, "he'll lick the platter clean!" As if to illustrate his point, Plagg zipped toward the tray and promptly buried himself in its contents; muffled chomping noises came from under the pile of croissants, along with a comment that sounded like "These would go well with cheese!"

Tikki shook her head ruefully - he hadn't changed a bit! She looked round in surprise when she noticed another croissant hovering beside her. Adrien had thoughtfully snatched a pastry away from Plagg's grasp, and was offering it to her. "Would you like one as well, Miss...er, Tikki?"

She glanced up at him appraisingly - _he really was such a nice boy!_ "Thank you very much, Adrien." She took the croissant from him and settled on the edge of the platter to enjoy it, taking care to keep it out of Plagg's reach. Adrien didn't see it, but as she floated past, she gave Marinette an approving wink.

"How about you?" Adrien hastily grabbed two more croissants while he could - they were going fast! "Would you care for another one... my Lady?"

He held the pastry out to Marinette. She gazed at him unspeakingly for almost a minute, looking at him as if she had only just remembered who he was - or _realized_ who he was. She slowly took in the appealing smile on his face. He watched her hopefully, waiting for her to take it all in, as he was still struggling to do; waiting for her to simply roll her eyes at his antics and accept him, like she always did...

The croissant left his hand. "Thanks, Chaton," she said, with a coy smile.

He didn't need a mask to recognize her - not now. Neither did she - that goofy grin on his face was all _him_.

"Cheers, Ladybug!" he declared, with an impish smirk, raising his pastry in salute. "To another well-cleansed akuma!"

"Cheers, Chat Noir!" she replied, following his example, one eyebrow raised in amusement. "To two heroes so dedicated, they are willing to skip their lunch-break!"

"Here, here!"

They both chuckled, then touched their croissants together, as if they were clinking glasses.

" _Bien joue_!"

It was so similar to their usual fist-bump, the words came naturally. Neither of them really had any need for more proof, but this certainly confirmed it - without a doubt! Smiling companionably at one another, with no more traces of uncertainty or nervousness between them, they both bit into their croissants with renewed gusto, table-manners excused - they both knew full-well how ravenous the other must feel!

Tikki had already finished her own pastry; she watched the pair fondly as she whisked another away from Plagg, who was showing no signs of slowing down.

* * *

"You ate _how many?!_ "

Adrien stared in disbelief. He and Marinette had been munching their pastries, happily discussing the day's akuma - and a few previous ones - in between bites. He had turned around to get them each another croissant, only to find nothing but stray crumbs left on the platter.

He prodded his over-stuffed kwami with one ring-clad finger. Since all Plagg did was moan feebly, Tikki helpfully piped up, daintily finishing the last flake of her second pastry as she did so. "I think he had about eight... or maybe nine..."

" _Nine_?!"

"One for each life," Plagg muttered, clutching his aching sides. Tikki shook her head, but didn't look at all surprised. Marinette was laughing unrestrainedly, tears in her eyes again. Adrien shot her a long-suffering look.

"Makes it easy to believe he could mistake Chloe's bracelet for a wheel of cheese, doesn't it?" he said, lifting Plagg up by the tip of his tail; he dangled weakly.

Marinette abruptly stopped giggling. "He did w _hat?"_ she asked, eyes flaring angrily at the tiny cat. Adrien ruthlessly held Plagg up in front of her face so she could glare directly at him. Plagg cringed.

"Uh... sorry for tripping you earlier?" he attempted meekly.

Adrien took pity on him, lowering him back into his schoolbag before Marinette could unleash her full fury on him. There where times when even _he_ was scared of Ladybug!

"I need to be getting back," he said, not bothering to check the time; he knew it was true regardless. _His father would be getting home any minute-!_

Marinette looked at the clock on the wall and gasped. "M-me too!" She had promised to be home soon _ages_ ago - her parents would be sending out a search party soon if she didn't hurry!

While she stowed Tikki safely inside her purse, Adrien took the empty tray for her; she protested and swatted his arm when she saw what he was doing, but he simply laughed and dashed ahead of her, both of them laughing.

Who knew so much could change over a simple shared croissant! There was something to be said for the old adage about breaking bread bringing people closer together...

They parted ways a block from the school. Evening was properly turning into night by now. The surrounding buildings were spires of light against the darkened sky, and they caught a glimpse of the lit Eiffel Tower between rooftops. He reluctantly handed her the tray; much as he would have loved to walk her home, he _really_ had to be back as soon as possible.

"Um, w-we should probably meet up again," she said, with a sudden return of shyness. "T-to talk things over properly. I still haven't..."

"Y-yeah, me too..." His head was still spinning - and not just because of low blood-sugar levels. He really wanted to go over everything with her, sort out who they were as partners... and _besides_ being partners... He didn't want to rush her, though...

"Are you free... l-later tonight, maybe...?"

He raised his head to goggle at her so quickly, he felt like he had whiplash. She blushed at his obvious surprise - but she wasn't really nervous, to her own amazement. She had pictured herself asking Adrien out multiple times, and compared to what she had imagined, this was... _different_. This was more like meeting Chat Noir for patrol; and as much as she worshipped the ground Adrien walked on, it was simply too hard for her to get flustered around her silly Minou. Of course, this really _wasn't_ going to be just some routine patrol, but... well, she would worry about those implications later - perhaps after dinner.

"I-I was thinking that I'd like to sort this out before school tomorrow," she explained - how were they supposed to get through the day if they didn't, with a secret this huge hanging over them all through class! - "And, um... my dad always makes the last batch of croissants at the bakery for us, so they are really fresh for us to have in the evening. I could bring some, if you... if y-you want to see how good they really are..."

He gazed ecstatically at her, almost dumbfounded. He couldn't believe his luck - he _knew_ he loved this girl for so many reasons, but _this was just_...!

"Yeah, that would be _great_!" She dimpled adorably at his undisguised eagerness. "I can do that tonight! N-not that I want to rob you of any more croissants, but..."

She chuckled. "I'm always happy to feed a hungry kitty, Minou. I can bring sweet pastries, the ones Tikki likes best; and we _do_ make some cheese ones, but Plagg won't-"

"I could probably manage it," a conspiratorial whisper said from within Adrien's bag, making them both laugh.

"I'm up for it," said Adrien, in what felt like the greatest understatement of his life. _Night-time rendezvous with my Lady - and fresh pastries?!_ He was sure his broad grin could have lit up several city blocks! "Where should we-?"

"A rooftop somewhere, I guess? I'll have to sneak out, so..."

"Yeah, me too! Um, how about... that roof, over there?"

He pointed to a tall chimney, just a few houses ahead. She glanced up at it, and smiled, as if she recognized it. He knew she was thinking the same thing as him. That was where he had used his staff to span the street like a tightrope; she had come flying out of nowhere and collided with him, the very first time they had met...

"Sounds great," she said, with a bright smile and a nod.

"Sounds _purr_ -fect!" he corrected her, smirking unashamedly.

She tossed her head and eyed him reproachfully, in a very Ladybug-like manner. He gave her a very Chat-ish wink.

"Well, then - it's a date, my Lady!" he said, sweeping her a gallant bow.

She tried to look non-plussed, but her smile - and her slight flush - gave her away. "If you say so, Chaton."


	3. Scarf (Part One)

**Chapter Three: Scarf (Part One)**

 _Terrified that Adrien will find out that his birthday gift wasn't from his father, Nathalie decides to get rid of the evidence. When a blue scarf is discovered in a bag of clothes about to be donated to the needy, Chat Noir isn't impressed - and neither is Ladybug!_

* * *

Winter was coming, and Nathalie was starting to panic.

She prided herself on the prestigious position she held - she well knew that hordes of hundreds would kill to have her job. As befitted such a role, she had gained a reputation as the 'unsmiling assassin' at Gabriel Agreste's side. Entrusted by him to run his business operations when he was otherwise detained (which was increasingly often), she was tasked with wielding his immense influence with a ruthless grip, keeping his fashion empire ticking over in twelve different countries. It was a tough gig, but she managed to excel at it - at some small cost. Where she would likely have described herself 'professional', others would have called her 'brutal'.

That brutality was about to come back and bite her.

Being personal aid to the most renowned designer in all of France was by no means an easy feat. Mr Agreste was the very definition of demanding; Nathalie was constantly aware that if she made even one small slip-up, she would be out of a job.

She was well used to living in constant fear of the _elder_ Mr Agreste. She was _not_ accustomed to being afraid of the _younger_ one.

She had spent a considerable amount of time with her employer's son. Besides her duties as an on-call PA, she had been tasked with tutoring Adrien from the time he was ten up until he entered public school as a teen. Many ambitious career-women would have resented being made mere 'governess' to some entitled bourgeoisie brat; Nathalie certainly would have, if her charge had been an egotistical horror anything like the mayor's girl. However, Adrien was completely unlike that - in fact, he was unlike anyone else within the greater Agreste orbit. During their lessons together, he had diligently listened to Nathalie's questions, answered her politely, followed her instructions willingly, never seemed to resent it when she corrected him (which wasn't very often). Even after he had graduated from her tuition, he always spoke to her cordially; his un-accusing frown was the only form of protest he raised when she handed him his schedule each morning. Compared to the rest of her duties, dealing with _Agreste fils_ was a breeze.

Or had been, until recently.

Career security made people do unscrupulous things. Nathalie had long ago vanquished her own emotional vulnerabilities, and her work prospects had reaped the benefits. However, this did not mean she was completely without principles.

She knew full well that she was doing something wrong when she removed a label from a blue-and-pink present, crumpled it into the bin, and handed the gift to Adrien, claiming it was a personal gift from his father.

It wasn't like she'd had any other choice. Mr Agreste was a busy man; it was understandable that he might forget to inform her that he wished for her to purchase Adrien's gift on his behalf. Nathalie didn't resent the blame he had placed on her - that was what she was here for. But that had not made her situation any easier; she hadn't had anything resembling a birthday present for a fifteen-year-old boy on hand.

At least, not until a young girl, bumbling through her motions and stumbling over her words, had turned up on the manor doorstep, Nathalie's salvation clutched in nervous hands.

Nathalie wasn't proud of what she had done - and she was terrified that she would be found out. She hadn't even known what the prettily-wrapped parcel contained; it was only when Adrien emerged from his room the following morning, pointedly re-arranging the folds of a sky-blue scarf around his neck, that she breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that the object inside had been something appropriate. She had only relaxed for a moment; it occurred to her that the girl who had brought it might be a classmate of Adrien's, and would undoubtedly step forward to take the credit. She had spent the entire day on tenterhooks; thankfully, Adrien had returned home with nothing amiss. She had since dismissed the mystery-girl as one random Parisienne fan among hundreds, who would never know how her offering had been misused.

Nathalie was relatively safe, until the cold weather began.

As soon as the first chill came into the air, she knew she was in trouble. Every time Adrien passed her in the corridor or stopped by her office, she had to suppress a shiver, and not from the cold: that same blue scarf was always worn at his throat. Worse still were the video calls between father and son. As she watched Adrien casually fiddle with the drape of the blue fabric, waiting for the bored voice on the other end of the line to make some mention of it, Nathalie held her breath, wondering all the while how she managed to keep from dropping the tablet. When, inevitably, the call ended without any acknowledgement from either party, Adrien would give a sigh of disappointment that seemed to stab right through her.

Contrary to the requirements of her calling, Nathalie wasn't _completely_ heartless.

The strain was starting to tell - she had become anxious and jumpy, quite unlike her usual efficient self. Sooner or later, Adrien would ask his father about the scarf point-blank, and the truth would come out. She knew that if one Agreste didn't fire her, the other one surely would! She had been wracking her astute brain for _weeks_ on end, yet she still had no idea what she should-

"Nathalie...?"

She gave a start, jolting upright in her chair. Adrien was standing opposite her desk, smiling politely at her. His only reaction to having caught her unawares was a single raised eyebrow; perhaps he found it reassuring that even an automaton like herself sometimes had moments of human distraction. She hastily pulled herself together.

"Yes, Adrien? What can I do for you?"

He gestured at the black duffel bag he wore over his shoulder; its open zipper showed her a profusion of assorted fabrics. "I'm looking for clothes that can be donated to some unfortunate Parisians - people who need warm things to wear in this cold weather. I've thrown in a few things of my own - mostly non-label, some of the old things I wore to basketball practice and some stuff from three seasons ago that I was holding onto - but I was wondering if the staff has anything else I can take? I checked with housekeeping, they said there might be some old raincoats in the hall closet, but to check with you before taking them."

"G-go right ahead," Nathalie assented, somewhat taken aback by the request - even knowing Adrien as well as she did, she would not have expected this from the son of a fashion mogul! Her keen analytical mind was already working; she sensed an opportunity here, if she could only work it in her favour. "I think there might be a few things in the staff breakroom. I remember seeing the chauffeur in an unsightly bobble-hat that should not meet Mr Agreste's eye; if you could make it disappear..."

Adrien grinned conspiratorially at her. For a moment, he didn't look remotely like a celebrity supermodel - more like a typical boy his age, happy to be in on a private joke. "Right, I'll take care of it. Thanks for the tip!" He winked at her, trotting purposefully away down the hall.

Nathalie didn't waste any time. Trying not to let her heels click too loudly on the marble floor, she strode towards Adrien's room, moving at an urgent pace. She wouldn't have very long before he came back, and she might have to search for-

As it turned out, she didn't have to look very hard at all: the scarf was lying neatly-coiled on the bedspread. Hardly believing what she dared, Nathalie snatched it up. Something black tumbled out of it - _a stray glove, perhaps?_ \- but she paid it no heed; she turned and hurried back to her office, her ears straining to catch any sounds of Adrien's return.

She held the scarf over the wastepaper basket and stood, poised, for several long seconds.

During her tenure with the Agrestes, Nathalie had done many questionable things - rejected aspiring interns, rebuffed minor celebrities, snubbed major CEO's - and never felt even a speck of remorse. And yet, she somehow couldn't quite bring herself to throw the scarf in the trash. She could feel the soft weave of the fabric between her fingers. It was hand-stitched and meticulously-finished, obviously crafted with a lot of care. She couldn't remember what the girl who brought it had looked like: she had vague recollections of stuttering speech, apologetic mannerisms, a signature with an 'i' dotted by a heart. But it wasn't _that_ which stopped her hand from unclenching: it was the memory of Adrien, his eyes lit up, wearing an actual genuine smile, as he clutched the wrapping paper with an air of eager expectancy.

The image tugged on whatever heartstrings she had left, which hadn't yet been cut by the cruel corporate world.

Momentarily defeated, she glanced around, weighing her options. A black shape on the ground caught her eye: Adrien had left his duffel bag lying on the tiles. Moving quickly, she darted over to it, thrust the scarf inside, then stuffed her own jacket on top of it to conceal it completely, just in case (she could always get a new one).

A minute later, Adrien wandered back in, his arms piled high with thick tweed coats and slick mackintoshes. A hideous knitted beanie, royal-blue with a pattern of yellow snowflakes and green pom-poms, was balanced on top of his load. He snickered as he drew level with Nathalie, who was sitting composedly at her desk, just as he had left her.

"Apparently the gardener bought it for him as a joke," he said. Nathalie grimaced, for reasons not wholly attributed to the offending _chapeau_.

Adrien stuffed his collection into his duffel bag, patted it down, and closed the zip with an effort. As he shouldered it and returned to his room, he didn't notice that Nathalie watched his retreating back with an expression that almost looked like remorse.

* * *

Adrien huffed in exasperation. He had looked everywhere: on the bed, under the bed, in his wardrobe, beneath the cabinets, behind the couch - even at the crevices in his rock-climbing wall, to no avail. He couldn't find his favourite scarf _anywhere_.

From his place curled up on a pillow, Plagg opened one eye. "If you're going to search frantically, please don't knock me off the bed again."

"I never knocked you off the bed," Adrien answered distractedly, grunting as he got up off the floor, having peered underneath his entertainment unit yet _again_. He still hadn't caught a glimpse of familiar blue anywhere.

"Yes you _did_ ," Plagg argued back, tail twitching in annoyance. "I was fast asleep on something soft, wrapped up toasty warm, when suddenly I went flying - I woke up in the dust beneath your nightstand!"

Preoccupied though he was, Adrien chuckled. "Are you sure you weren't chasing wheels of cheese in your sleep? Maybe one of them fought you off!"

"Ha, ha," Plagg muttered, rolling his eyes. "You should be nice to me; I'm doing you a favour this evening."

"True." He knew that Plagg didn't like him to transform for anything less than an akuma attack (Adrien personally thought it was just because his kwami was so lazy). But tonight, he was allowing Chat Noir to meet Ladybug for a very special reason - and had insisted on being paid for his efforts with some _very_ special cheeses.

Adrien sighed vexedly, finally giving up. He had no idea where his favourite scarf was - he could've _sworn_ he'd left it laid it out on the bed - but he'd have to finish searching for it later. He couldn't let a sartorial crisis make him late for this event; he and his Lady had put too much planning into it.

Pulling a jet-black scarf from a dresser drawer and tossing it beside his duffel bag, he said: "Plagg, transform me!"

Once the flash of green light had subsided, Chat Noir knotted the black scarf over the collar of his suit, taking care to adjust it over his bell. Then he slung the bag over his shoulder and leapt out the open window.

* * *

It was a dreary winter's day in Paris.

Despite the recent cold snap, it hadn't yet snowed; the buildings looked rather drab without a decorative layer of white. The park lacked its usual greenery, trees stretching bare branches towards a grey sky. The only splash of autumnal colour was in the red of the banner that was set up just beside the statue of the city's heroes. White cloth was sewn with black-polka-dot letters, which read:

HOT PASTRIES  
\+ WARM CLOTHES

Chat Noir perched atop the roof of a nearby house, admiring the view. A trestle table had been set up, and a good-sized queue was patiently snaking its way towards it. The misted breath of waiting people drifted on the air, mingling with the steam that rose from a huge platter of croissants. Behind the table, a graceful figure was handing out pastries, dexterously wielding a pair of tongs in a red-gloved hand. As Chat Noir watched, a young man in a patched overcoat, his nose already pink with cold, flushed to the tips of his ears at something Ladybug had said to him; she flashed him a smile that could melt icicles.

Chat grinned, then leaped down to join the scene. He had his own job to do, and since his Lady already had a head-start, he'd best get on with it; the sign did say 'pastries _and_ clothes'.

"That's quite a big paw-tion you've got there," he said, landing lightly at the foot of the statue; his pose perfectly mirrored that of his counterpart. The crowd momentarily forgot about the croissants on offer, jostling and chattering as they caught sight of their second-favourite superhero. "More than a few meow-thfuls, that's for sure! Is someone around here hungry?"

Ladybug looked up, giving her partner a tolerant smile. "Yes, they're hungry, and cold too. Though you look pretty warm - is that an Agreste scarf you've got on?"

Chat Noir glanced down; sure enough, the familiar logo was embroidered on the velvety fabric in grey thread.

Whoops, maybe it was a sartorial mishaps after all. Even if plenty of people owned a piece of Agreste wear, it was careless of him to wear his family's own apparel - talk about being a walking signpost for his secret identity! Still, he was pleased with the compliment - if that was what it was.

"I look warm, do I? Why not go a step further and say I look hot?"

Several young women near the front of the line giggled behind chapped hands; Ladybug only rolled her eyes. "I guess black even suits alley-cats."

"It suits bugs even better," Chat replied amiably. He nodded toward the scarf round her neck, a vibrant red patterned with her trademark spots; matching black pom-poms dangled from each end. "That's quite a fancy bit of couture you've got there yourself."

She smiled a genuine smile at his remark; he resisted the urge to turn pink himself. "This one wasn't off the rack - for someone as unique as myself, an original was a must!"

"Can't argue with that," he demurred, not taking the slightest offence to the backhanded insult - after all, it _was_ true.

"Speaking of fashion, Chat Noir, I trust you actually did your part for today?"

"Of course - how could you doubt me, my Lady?" He held up his bag for her to see. "And I personally sourced it all myself. What about you, my Lady? Did you make all those pastries with your own hands?"

She laughed humourlessly. "Not likely - though I trust they only taste better for it! Since there are so many, here's one I can spare for you, Chaton." Seizing a croissant with her tongs, she tossed it in his direction; he caught it with ease.

"Not bad - you might have another choice of weapon if you ever decide to retire the yoyo."

Ladybug's only answer was a resigned shake of her head. She turned her attention to an old man who was next in line; he accepted a croissant from her gratefully, cupping it in his hands as if to warm them.

Nibbling his pastry, Chat Noir found that it was _very_ good - freshly-made, judging by how hot and crisp it still was. It occurred to him that the platter might be from the Dupain-Cheng bakery, which was just across the park from where they were. He had never tried the croissants there - but if their salmon quiche was anything to go by, he wouldn't be surprised if they were this good! He wondered if Marinette had had a hand in baking them; the thought made him smile. He was sure she would approve if she knew who the pastries were going to. The people currently standing in line hadn't tasted something as luxurious as this in a long while.

Some time ago, he had started noticing numerous people roaming the streets during his patrols; he had glimpsed them out of the corner of his eye, huddled in door stoops or shuffling down deserted alleys. When an akuma was loose in the city, they naturally slipped to the back of his mind; but he didn't forgotten about them - especially when it began to turn cold. Seeing them as Adrien - gazing out at them the interior of a climate-controlled sedan, while wearing clothes with a price tag that could likely feed a family of four - only made him feel even worse for them.

He had long had the idea of doing something for them. After all, he was supposed to be a protector of Paris; and it wasn't just super-villains that threatened the city's civilians on a day-to-day basis. When he outlined his rough plans to Ladybug, she had mentioned a bakery she knew of that sometimes gave out batches of baked goods to hungry vagrants. Between the two of them, they had come up with a special aid-distribution scheme - hopefully the first of many to come. There was already a fair-sized turn-out this time, which he was very happy to see; he wanted to reach as many people as he could.

He was surprised by how excited he was about it all - the rush of elation he felt at seeing the result of their efforts was wholly unexpected. It was definitely a thrill to see himself on the news when he and Ladybug had thwarted another akuma; but there were people out there who didn't even own tv sets, let alone coats for their backs or food for their bellies. Being able to do something about it made him feel like he was making a difference where it really mattered.

A crowd had started to gather around him, buzzing eagerly as word of his bulging duffel bag got round. Hastily cramming the rest of his pastry in his mouth, he undid the zip with a flourish, proudly showing off his wares. He adopted the manner of a hustling salesman, to the wry amusement of everyone in earshot.

"Step right up! Come one and all, to Chat Noir's pop-up fashion boutique! And don't let the name fool you - not everything we have is black!"

Unseen by him, Ladybug rolled her eyes long-sufferingly at the next person in line to receive a croissant; but she bit back a tiny sliver of a smile.

Adrien had sold a lot of clothes in his time, but had never gotten any real satisfaction from it. When he passed someone in the street wearing a piece from his latest ad campaign, he merely shrugged and chalked it up on his mental tally, making a game of seeing how many new-season shirts he could spot on the Champs Elysees. What he did now certainly wasn't a game - but he didn't think he had ever gotten as much enjoyment from anything as he was getting from this. As the evening wore on and the throng of people around him steadily grew, he only found more things to like about his newly-acquired role as a humble haberdasher. He handed out jumpers to gentlemen with their elbows poking through holes in worn-out sweaters; helped shivering ladies without proper jackets slide into sturdy coats; put more hats on heads and gloves on hands than he could bother to count.

Even in his father's flagship store, where the average price of a garment often went into triple digits, he had never seen people smile so broadly as they were doing now, as they gratefully donned his bag of second-hand cast-offs. When he dropped a three-seasons-old poncho over the head of a girl about his age, she instantly hugged the folds to her slim frame; he felt as if he'd just been hugged himself. His chauffeur's ugly bobble-hat ended up on a girl with blonde plaits who somehow made it look adorable. She looked shyly up at him from beneath it, then moved towards him in a rush, giving him a _real_ hug as thanks.

Yep, if anyone asked, this was his new favourite past time - not that he could admit as much outside the costume! He'd have to think of another hobby next time a teen magazine decided to profile Adrien; he was already studiously avoiding all mention of his superhero sideline in his interviews.

"Next! Come forward now, don't be shy!" he called, feeling slightly heady with enthusiasm.

A small boy stumbled from the crowd, mouth slightly agape at suddenly seeing his hero up close. Chat Noir bent down so he could look at the child on his level, keeping his hands low in case his claws were too scary for him.

"What can I do for you, young man? Surely I must have something for you here in my portable claw-set." The boy beamed; Chat wished that all his jokes could go down so well! He eyed the child before him, his mood a touch more subdued. The boy wore a thin jacket over a threadbare jumper; if he hadn't been so distracted by the presence of celebrity, he would likely have been shivering. His neck, left exposed by the low collar of an inadequate shirt, looked far too thin.

"According to my expert opinion, you could use a scarf!" Chat declared; the boy nodded obediently, gazing back at him with evident hope in his star-struck eyes.

"Just a moment, while your own personal stylist gets to work! I'm certain I saw just the thing..." Chat Noir rummaged in the duffel bag, pushing aside several anoraks and an oversized hoodie. Huh, that jacket looked a lot like Nathalie's; maybe she had put it in there while he was-

A flash of blue caught his eye; he instinctively latched onto it, pulling it carefully from the bag.

It was a scarf, alright: Adrien Agreste's favourite sky-blue scarf.

He knelt with it in his hand, staring at it in utter bewilderment. He remained motionless for so long, people began to murmur among themselves. The boy hovered uncertainly, watching him with an expectant gaze. He managed to recover himself, quickly putting on a smile for the benefit of the crowd.

"Huh, this one is alright, I guess - but not quite good enough. I think we can do far better than that!"

So saying, he tucked the blue scarf into his belt, unwound the black one from his neck, and draped it round the boy's shoulders, earning himself an unbelieving gasp and an ecstatic grin. The people round them, seeing the hero give his own scarf away to the little boy, began to clap and cheer. A young woman, presumably the boy's mother, came forward and clung to his hand, uttering a rapid stream of thanks.

"All in a day's work for a superhero," he said, lightly ruffling the boy's hair. "I must say, it furr-oughly suits you! Don't you think so, my La-"

He had meant to cover his own distraction by calling on her, but when he glanced at her, he involuntarily stopped mid-sentence. He had figured that the noise would have attracted her notice, but to his amazement, she was staring full at them. Her tongs were poised with a croissant still clutched in them; an elderly lady waited patiently with her hand outstretched, wondering why she wasn't letting go of it. It took Chat Noir a moment to realize that Ladybug was staring not at the boy, but at _him_. Her slack expression and wide eyes looked like the exact mirror of what he had just felt, when he had reached into the bag and pulled out his own scarf.

Was there something on his face? Was Papillion standing behind him? Why was she-

She came back to herself with a start, hastily offering the pastry to its recipient with a murmured apology. "Looks good to me, Chaton," she said, in her usual breezy manner; for a moment, he thought he'd only imagined the shocked look on her face. "Much better than on you, with your mange half-hiding it!"

"Meow-ch!" he uttered in mock-pain, running a self-conscious hand through his hair. When he became Chat, his locks completely defied their usual order, sticking up at all sort of angles - but he wouldn't exactly call it mangy! She smirked back at him, but something about her still seemed... off. Her gaze kept sweeping over him, then darting away again, something he'd never seen from her before - though it _did_ seem strangely familiar...

"Well," he said, turning his attention back to the boy, "just in case it _does_ come with its own mange, we'd better find you a hat to match! If we're going for the full effect you should really have a beanie with cat-ears, but I'm afraid I don't have any - besides my own, and they're very much attached! If I could knit or sew, I'd whip you up something right-"

 _Clang!_

Ladybug had dropped her tongs on the tray with a loud clamour, startling everyone around her - including Chat Noir. Face colouring slightly beneath her mask, she hastily snatched them back up again. "Whoops, sorry - the metal is getting too cold to grasp properly!"

She turned away, passing a pastry to the next person in line as if her life depended on it. As he dug through his bag for a suitable hat, Chat Noir squinted at her from beneath his 'mange'. Something seemed to have upset her, and he had no idea what.

He would have to wait until they had both done their jobs before he could have any hope of finding out.

* * *

Half an hour later, the last stragglers had finally dispersed. Chat Noir waved to them as he watched them go; they cheerily waved back at him, before disappearing around distant street-corners.

He was satisfied with what they had accomplished that afternoon; and yet, he still wished that they could do more. He hoped that all those people had someone to go for the night. The thought of them all huddling somewhere on cold cobbles worried him. If he could, he would set up a hostel for them right here in the park. Such a thing was impossible, even for them - Ladybug might manage it with her Lucky Charm, but it would only last them all of five minutes!

He zipped his duffel bag closed; it sagged emptily beneath his hand. All it had left inside it were a few odd mittens, and a jacket given to him by his gardener that was really too shabby for anything (except perhaps as fertiliser). Ladybug had done even better than him: her tray was bare but for a few crumbs, which she tipped onto the ground for the birds to peck at. He chuckled at the sight.

"Mr. Ramier would be proud of you," he said, going over to lean against her table - if he needed an excuse for moving closer to her, he could say he was getting away from the feathers. "If we learnt anything from Mr. Pigeon, it's that even the birds deserve some charity! I think we helped more than just birds today. It went pretty well - right, my Lady?"

"Yeah."

He had been watching a particularly greedy pigeon make off with an overly-large crumb; when she spoke, he looked round at her sharply. Her short reply to his extended attempts at conversation was very unlike her. Noticing his gaze on her, she looked at him once, then glanced away again. He frowned; he had almost forgotten her reaction from earlier, but now the memory came rushing back. He certainly hadn't been imagining things.

Just what was bothering her? If he had done something wrong-

"Chat, where did you get that scarf?"

He gave a violent start. Oh no - had he given himself away? He had thought it was safe to wear an Agreste scarf, since so many other people must own one; but maybe that particular style was too exclusive? Was it too expensive? He could take his pick from his father's entire collection any time he wanted, so he had no idea about the price of certain garments. Was it unbelievable that someone his age could afford such a piece?

"Y-you said it yourself, my Lady," he said, stumbling over his answer; he made a concerted effort to sound as casual as he could. "It's an Agreste creation - and a pretty sophisticated one at that, you must admit. Not bad for a stray cat, eh? I was quite impressed that you recognized it. I always knew you were a fashionable bug - just look at how you carry off that suit! - but you must also be a-"

"No, not that one," she said, cutting through his garbled response. "I mean _that_ one."

She pointed at his waist; he glanced down at the blue scarf, which was still stashed securely in his belt. _Geez_ , that was even worse than the black one - no way could be explain to her why he had a custom-made creation, crafted by none other than Gabriel Agreste himself!

"You _did_ say you personally sourced the clothes yourself," she added, as he hesitated far longer than he should. "Where did you _get_ all of it?"

"Oh, well..." He cast around quickly for an answer that wouldn't give him away. "I-it's like that bakery you know of, the one that gave you croissants for today. I have a, uh, a _friend_ who supplied me with everything. He left a bag out for me, and I trust his-"

"Did the Agrestes give you that bag?"

He was brought up short by the bluntness of her question. So she really _did_ know her fashion! "Y-yeah, they did! So you recognized-"

 _Clatter!_

For the second time that day, the tongs dropped out of her hand. At first, he wondered if she had just spotted a sudden akuma; she looked almost panicked, something he only ever associated with their battles, and then only in the worst of them.

"I... I just... I've got to go-" Without further explanation, she launched her yoyo at a nearby chimney and soared away over the rooftops, leaving him standing stunned in her wake.

"My... Lady...?" he said, addressing a red blip in the distance. She was already far out of earshot.

His first reaction was to go after her, but he stopped after a few steps in the direction she had taken. Whatever it was that had called her away, it must be her own private business; besides, he had no idea where she'd gone, and he had no hope of catching up to her now. Maybe she just had something she had to do? That was the logical explanation; but somehow, he didn't quite believe it. Her words stuck with him, and everything about them seemed odd - including her sudden departure.

He didn't know what to do with the table and banner she had left behind - he didn't even know if they were hers or borrowed from somewhere - so he carried them across the square, leaning them against the wall of the bakery. He didn't think the Dupain-Chengs would mind, and she should be able to find them there if she came back for them later. He was tempted to wait and see if she did return, but quickly gave up on the idea. Instead, he launched himself onto the nearest roof and ran along its ridge with sure-footed assurance, heading towards home.

He _definitely_ had something he needed to do.

* * *

 _Author's note: I knew this would happen sooner or later! A couple of short one-shots, quick and easy to write? Yeah, sure! I thought this story would be reasonably straight-forward, but it's already turned out so long! Rather than give people a humongous wall of text to wade through, I'm dividing it into Parts One and Two. I hope nobody minds - at least you all get some of it a bit sooner this way!_

 _I'd really like to see a scene like this in canon some day. For some reason, I can imagine Adrien wanting to do something like this - don't get me wrong, I'm sure Marinette would to, but she might decide it wasn't her place to do it as Ladybug. I reckon Chat would seize the opportunity, while Ladybug would back him up and come up with the practical side of things. Given how generous Tom and Sabine are with their pastries, I'm sure they'd be happy to be in on it too!_

 _I realized halfway through writing this chapter that the previous one had phones in it, while this one features croissants. Perhaps the item from the preceding chapter will always have a cameo in the one following it, meaning the next will feature the scarf in it somewhere? (okay, so the next one will be part two of the same story, which is totally cheating - we'll just have to see what Chapter 5 brings!) ~ W.J._


	4. Scarf (Part Two)

**Chapter Four: Scarf (Part Two)**

 _Terrified that Adrien will find out that his birthday gift wasn't from his father, Nathalie decides to get rid of the evidence. When a blue scarf is discovered in a bag of clothes about to be donated to the needy, Chat Noir isn't impressed - and neither is Ladybug!_

* * *

"Nathalie."

The owner of the name flinched so hard, her glasses almost slid off. She knew that particular tone well; however, she had never heard it used by _that_ voice before.

Pushing her glasses back into place, she slowly raised her head. Adrien Agreste was once again standing across from her desk.

She had never fully appreciated the resemblance between father and son before. They had never looked more similar than right now: though the eyes that were levelling an imperious stare at her were vibrant green instead of ice- blue, they had the exact same penetrating glower. Though she somehow managed to keep her outward composure, she felt as if she was pinned to her chair.

"Yes, Adrien? What can I do for you?"

Adrien knew from the outset where he to find his answers. Plagg had only been minimally helpful - "Yeah, I guess it _was_ your scarf I was sleeping on! Someone must have scarf-napped it while I was napping, I didn't see who through my closed eyelids!" - but he hadn't had too many suspects to choose from. Nathalie's jacket had been in the bag, directly on top of the scarf; only she would be audacious enough to take it from his room, though she certainly wasn't entitled to mess with his things. Her motive stumped him, however; so he had resolved to get it out of her under interrogation.

He knew he was acting a lot like his father, an idea that would normally repulse him - but frankly, he didn't really care right now. Despite the fact that she was technically his employee, Nathalie only answered to his father; to get what he wanted out of her, he would have to adopt the same brand of authority. He raised the very best imitation he could muster.

"Would you care to explain how _this_ got into the bag of clothes to be given away?" He raised the hand he had concealed behind his back, holding up the blue scarf.

He realized then that his act was perhaps too effective; Nathalie slumped in her chair like a defeated woman. She glanced quickly at him and away again, in an exact mirror of the way Ladybug had looked at him earlier.

"I'm sorry, Adrien."

It took him all his time not to gape at her. Nathalie _never_ apologized! - no, wait, that wasn't quite true. He had heard her apologize - to someone other than his father - just _once_ before, on the day of his birthday, when his father had failed to so much as wish him 'many happy returns'. The facts were starting to align, though he didn't much like the picture they were forming.

"This wasn't from my father, was it?"

Nathalie reluctantly shook her head, heaving a sigh. "No, it wasn't. I know I shouldn't have done it, and I'm certainly not proud of it, but... I didn't have any other choice. Your father asked me to purchase a birthday gift for you, and I'm sure he must have reminded me multiple times well in advance, but I forgot all about it up until the actual day, and I-"

That was a bald-faced lie. Adrien knew Nathalie just as well as she knew him; he knew she would _never_ forget a request like that, especially one coming from Gabriel. He didn't really begrudge Nathalie for the falsehood: she was just doing what she was paid to do, taking the blame for her employer's shortcomings. But it certainly didn't inspire any feelings of forgiveness in his father's direction.

"-would have personally chosen something that you would approve of," Nathalie went on, "but there was an akuma attack that day-"

"The Bubbler," Adrien interrupted, his voice tight.

"Yes." Nathalie had spoken to Nino herself, just before it had happened; she knew how personal the incident had been for Adrien. "I didn't have a chance to purchase anything, and with no other options, I... w-well, there was a delivery there for you, so I removed the label from it, and... said what I said." She stopped, staring down at her lap with a shame-filled gaze. After a moment, she opened a desk drawer and laid something on the table. He realized it was the key to her office door.

"I can't apologize enough for my incompetence. I'll vacate the premises within the next two hours; as soon as my letter of resignation has been prepared, I shall have it forwarded on to-"

"No, wait-" Adrien's entire demeanour underwent a drastic change; now _he_ was the apologetic one. He took a quick step over to bar her path from the desk to the exit. "I-I don't want to fire you! I just..." He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying hard to rein in his temper. When he looked at her again, it was with the usual, polite expression that she was accustomed to. "I won't say anything to Father. I just want to know exactly happened. If... the scarf isn't from my father-" though he had entirely suspected this, it was still difficult to say out loud "-then who _is_ it from?"

"A young girl brought it. I didn't catch her name; it was on the tag, but I, er... I threw it in the trash. It's long gone now."

Adrien heaved a frustrated sigh. That was the other thing he was almost certain of: he was sure that _Ladybug_ had brought him that scarf. It was the only reason she would react like that when she saw it, why she would ask him about it. He winced when he thought of how she must have interpreted it when she saw the scarf - _her_ scarf - in the bag to be given away!

"What did she look like?" he asked, his voice filled with far more urgency than he had intended. He was gripping the edge of the desk, unintentionally looming over Nathalie. To his great disappointment, she only shook her head.

"I honestly couldn't say. She seemed... rather nervous, I suppose. And I _think_ she had dark hair..."

Adrien straightened in an instant. _Dark hair-!_ That sounded like Ladybug; though the whole nervousness thing didn't seem to fit her. Maybe she had been anxious for him to like her gift...?

He realized Nathalie was watching him curiously. "Thank you, that is all I wanted to know." His tone of voice had become stony again; however, it softened to add: "Don't worry, there won't be any consequences. Father won't ever hear about this from me. In return, don't _ever_ mislead me like that again - alright?" He was rapidly cycling between being worried for her, and feeling absolutely furious - though his anger wasn't really directed at her. After all the things his father had done or failed to do, this was a whole new low!

She nodded meekly. "Thank you very much, Adrien. I truly am extremely sorry. If there is anything else I can do-"

"Thank you, I'll let you know."

So saying, he turned on his heel and strode moodily from the room, gently smoothing the soft blue fabric between his fingers all the while. Nathalie slowly reached out and replaced her keys in the desk drawer, her eyes gazing wonderingly on the empty door frame all the while.

* * *

"Hey, dude, haven't seen that scarf in a while. Good to see that it still suits you!" Nino grinned at his own words; Adrien smiled weakly in return.

It was true, he hadn't worn the scarf to school in a long while. He had been saving it for instances when he saw his father - what a pointless exercise that had turned out to be!

He had spent the long night before school fuming over it, and wondering whether Ladybug really _had_ been the true author of his birthday gift. He had put it on today, curtly telling Nathalie that he wished to walk to school instead of being driven. Perhaps trying to make amends after their previous discussion, she had actually allowed him to make the short stroll unescorted. All the way to Francoise-Dupont College, he had watched every dark-haired girl that passed him with an interrogative stare, searching for some sign - a sudden gasp, a cry of recognition, _anything_ that might have given his Lady away in the middle of the busy street. He hadn't had any luck - she might live far across town, for all he knew!

He had passed the Tom-Sabine Boulangerie on his way to school. The table and banner had both disappeared, so she must have come back for them after all. If only he had been there when she had, he could have explained it all to her; at this rate, he might not get the chance until the next akuma attack, which wasn't ideal.

He managed to give his best friend a genuine smile. "I see you wearing that exact same cap every single day; good to see it still brings out your eyes!"

Nino chuckled, giving him a friendly cuff on the arm. "So what if my dad isn't a famous fashion designer who can stitch together a new hat for me every other week!" Adrien apparently wasn't able to conceal his dark expression as well as he had hoped; Nino noticed his face fell at his words. "Hey, what's the matter? Did you have a falling out with your dad or something?"

"Yeah, you could say I did," Adrien admitted, trying not to let his tone become scathing. "I had a one-sided falling out with him - since he doesn't even know what fell! I found out that he didn't get me this scarf at all. On my birthday, his assistant had barely any notice that she was supposed to get a present for me; she panicked and grabbed one that happened to be lying around, claiming to me that it was from him. He never even knew that it existed."

Nino drew in a sharp breath. "That is so epically wrong!"

"I know," Adrien muttered, leaning back in his seat with a groan. "The worst thing is, I have absolutely no idea who it's actually from!"

"No idea whatsoever?" Nino wanted to know.

"Well, Nathalie said a girl brought it to the house. But that's all-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa- it's from a _girl?!"_ Nino pitched forward in his seat so fast, he just about fell out of it. "That's awesome, dude! It means you totally have a secret admirer!"

Adrien shrugged. He could hardly tell Nino who he thought that 'admirer' might be. "Yeah, it's great - except for the whole 'secret' part."

"We'll just have to do something about that." Nino slung an arm around his shoulders. Adrien couldn't help but smile. Up until now, he's never had a proper friend like Nino: one who can comfort him, no matter how insurmountable the things in front of him seemed to be. His best friend couldn't exactly solve all his problems for him - he didn't even know about _half_ of them - but it was so much better now that he didn't have to face them on his own.

"We'll start a thorough search right after class," Nino declared, rubbing his hands together. "No scarf-sewing maiden in Paris will escape our notice! Hey, doesn't your dad keep a whole heap of interns? Maybe one of them-"

"No, it wouldn't be," Adrien interrupted him. "Nathalie would have recognized any of them, and she didn't know this girl."

"Huh. A design student, perhaps? Someone trying to impress the famous Agreste clan?"

Again, Adrien shook his head. He'd been thinking through such things all night. "A design student would likely come up with something more elaborate to get our notice. I mean, it's not the fanciest piece of work-" he patted the scarf's folds apologetically as he spoke "-even if it _is_ very well-made. I don't think it was made to impress my father. It's more... personal than that."

Something made just for _him_. Someone who had bothered to think of _him_ , to make him something specially, with the simple hope that he might like it - how did you search for someone like _that_?

Nino smiled wryly. "See, already you're eliminating some of the suspects! A bit more detective work, and I'm sure we'll track the right girl down."

"I don't know if we can." Adrien leaned back in his seat, despondent again. "There are a lot of girls in Paris who are into sewing. It's one of the fashion capitals of the world, you know."

"True." Nino frowned, folding his arms; the scope of their proposed search seemed to have just dawned on him. "I guess every school has a group of enthusiasts, and there's a lot of schools in the city. Remember that derby-hat contest the college held last year? A whole heap of girls from our class made entries for it. Maybe someone like th-"

He suddenly lurched forward, nearly slamming his head into his own desk; he had to hastily put out his hands to prevent his glasses from smashing. Adrien turned his head to look at the perpetrator of his assault: Alya, sitting behind Nino, had kicked him sharply in the back, sending him flying. It must have hurt, given the way he was now rubbing his hip, glaring at her over his shoulder.

"Do you mind?!"

"I do actually," Alya retorted. "I hate boys who have to be noisy of a morning!"

Adrien opened his mouth to say something placating, then stopped. He only now noticed just how quiet the girls were today; come to think of it, he had been resting his head on the desk behind him for a while now, with nary a peep from its owner.

"Where's Marinette?" he asked.

Alya seemed somewhat mollified by his question, though she glanced unhappily at the empty seat beside her. "She's not coming in today. I got a text from her, saying she's got the sniffles. Silly girl was probably up late working on something, as usual, and caught some sort of-"

"Hey, that's who you should ask!" Nino interrupted, cutting her off. " _Marinette_ sews - I mean, she _won_ that hat competition! Maybe she knows other girls who are into that sort of thing? You could ask her-"

Adrien was looking at Nino as he spoke, but he caught Alya's actions out of the corner of his eye: she was glaring at the back of Nino's head, gritting her teeth and clenching her fingers as if she wanted to throttle him. A piece of the puzzle dropped definitively into place.

"Marinette made the scarf, didn't she?"

Nino gaped at him; the possibility apparently hadn't occurred to him. Still frowning furiously, Alya opened her mouth to deny it; then apparently reconsidered.

"She did," she reluctantly admitted. "She probably won't want anything to do with me once she finds out that I told you, but... yeah, she made the scarf." Apparently foreseeing the question - one of several - he was about to ask, she went on: "She was too nervous to give it to you in person, so she took it to your house and left it with your assistant. When she saw how happy you were that your father had supposedly given it to you... she decided not to say anything, so as not to disappoint you." She heaved a sigh, smiling fondly to herself. "That's the kind of soft, selfless dork that girl really is."

Adrien was stunned. To think that all this time, Marinette had done something like that for him, then sat behind him not saying anything about it... Just how many times had he worn the scarf to school, parading it in front of her, boasting what a great job his father had done on it? She must have been...

"Did you say she's not feeling well?"

Alya blinked at him, surprised by the sudden change of topic. "Yeah, she's not up to coming in. I told Ms Bustier that I would take some worksheets to her-"

"Can I do it?" Adrien asked without thinking. Seeing the appraising expression Alya was giving him, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'd like to see her and apologize. It must have sucked, putting so much effort into something and not even getting any credit for it. I mean, I should have known, her hat was amazing, and this is just-"

He stopped, unable to properly put it into words. He held up one end of the scarf before him, examining the neat, delicate seams. To think that she had sat stitching this scarf for hours on end, putting so much work into it, then not gotten even so much as a simple 'thanks' in return...

Alya considered him long and hard. He must have somehow managed to win her approval; after a minute, she said: "Sure, I'll give you her address."

* * *

Marinette's parents welcomed him enthusiastically when he stepped into the bakery and explained his errand. Sabine came out from behind the cash register to properly speak with him; Tom stuck his head out of the kitchen, gave him a cheery wave, and disappeared again in a cloud of flour. Adrien thought of the reception Nino had received at his house - that _Marinette_ must have received when she came to deliver his scarf - and cringed internally. It was a wonder she hadn't been akumatized like Nino had!

"So sweet of you to come all this way during your lunch break," Mrs Dupain-Cheng said, straightening a box of macaroons on the counter as she spoke. "Can I offer you something to make up for it? Perhaps a roll or croissant?"

"No thank you, Madam," Adrien replied, tempting though the offer was. He already considered himself on the outer with Marinette - the last thing he needed to do was wheedle free baked goods out of her parents on top of everything else! "Would it be alright if I took these up to her? She might like to see a familiar face; it can be lonely, having to stay cooped up at home all day." He knew as much firsthand.

Sabine beamed at him. "Of course, I'm sure she'd enjoy that! Go right up, if you dare - I don't think it's anything contagious. The silly girl was probably out on the balcony til late last night, staring across at the park." Seeing his uncomprehending expression, she dimpled like an excited schoolgirl. "Didn't she tell you? Paris' heroes asked our bakery to supply some pastries for them to hand out to the needy - Ladybug and Chat Noir themselves requested it! Tom and I were so excited, and it was such a worthy cause - we can always spare a bit of bread for those who need it. You should ask Marinette about it; she organized it all, I think she got in contact with them through her friend Alya's blog. We had to resist running across the park to have a look all night - it wouldn't be right for a couple of gawkers to turn up, when it was supposed to be for those poor people! But I'm keeping you for far too long; go on up. If you change your mind and want some food to take with you when you come back down, just let me know."

"T-thank you very much, Madam," Adrien managed to reply, his mind whirling. So the croissants really _had_ been from this bakery... He wished he could tell the kindly lady how good they had been, and what good use they had put them to...

He went up the stairs to the living quarters above, clutching his wad of worksheets apprehensively. Pausing on the stairs with the trapdoor just above his head, he knocked politely.

"Yes?" a voice instantly answered from within. Adrien didn't know what to say - he had so many things to tell the girl on the other side of the door, he didn't even know how to announce himself. Hoping he didn't overstep the mark too much, he pushed the door open and went up, groping for his first choice of words as he went.

He found Marinette sitting hunched on the floor, staring at a partly-dismantled paper pattern that was laid out beside her. He had expected to find her in her pyjamas, huddled under a pile of blankets with a box of tissues at her side; but she was actually dressed in her usual clothes, except for a pair of house-slippers and a chunky grey cardigan in place of her jacket. An overcrowded pin-cushion lay within her reach. She frowned at her work, not bothering to look up.

"There's no need to check on me," she said, without glancing at him. "I'm fine, so if the shop's busy, go right on back, I can get myself something to eat la-" She finally raised her head, stopping short when she noticed who it was.

Adrien gave her a hesitant wave. "Hi."

He inwardly scolded himself for starting off in such a lame way. Then again, maybe it was just as well; Marinette looked like she could use a bit of time to recover herself. She was staring at him open-mouthed, eyes wide, as if he was a ghost. Now that he knew who had made the scarf, he understood why: her gaze was riveted on his neck.

"I, er... I heard you weren't well, so I thought I'd drop these worksheets off to you." He put the pile of papers on the desk. That had been his supposed reason for visiting; at least Alya and Ms Bustier would be happy with him now.

"And, uh... I wanted to thank you for this scarf. You made it, didn't you?" He waited for a reply, but none came; Marinette appeared to be frozen in shock. She didn't affirm it, but didn't deny it either, so he continued uneasily. "I'm so, so sorry; I thought for some reason that it was a gift from my father. Don't be mad at Alya, but she explained to me why you didn't want to tell me. That was so selfless of you."

He bit back a huff; it was more protection than his father deserved, but he kept such comments to himself. "It was really good of you to go to so much effort for me. I know this is a bit out of the blue, but I just had to drop by, to give you my apology and my thanks. This scarf is awesome; I wear it all the time, it's so-"

"Liar!"

Marinette's sudden outburst made him jump backward in surprise; it was lucky he wasn't anywhere near the trap door, or he might have fallen through it.

"Don't lie to me!" She went on, her fists balled, glaring furiously up at him. She pushed herself up off the ground with a strength and dexterity he had never seen in her before. Even though she was half a head shorter than him, she was surprisingly threatening as she waved a pointed finger in his face. "I hate liars! I know the truth, so don't you _dare_ try to hide it from me! You don't really like that scarf at all! You didn't even want to keep it - you were going to give it away! I don't care if you know that I made it or not, but if you're going to just throw away all my hard work-"

"Why would... you think that?" Adrien asked, managing to get a word edgeways into her rant. "How do you know-?"

 _How did she know that the scarf had ended up in the bag to be given away?_

Marinette's mouth flew shut; she looked like she had just said something she didn't mean to say. She gave him a frightened stare, then hastily turned away from him.

 _That_ _was it_! That was why Ladybug's behaviour -and Nathalie's, to some extent - had looked so familiar! He had been looked at in just the same way before by Marinette, back when she thought that he had stuck gum to her seat! Geez, she must really hate him right now...

"Marinette... I, um..." He trailed off, not sure where to begin; she turned a little further away from him, refusing to even look at him. Baffled, he likewise glanced away, politely keeping his eyes off her as well. His gaze roved half-heartedly over reels of fabric, piles of half-finished sketches, a dress-maker's dummy-

It was a wonder he hadn't seen it straight away, conditioned as he was to focus on things that were red with black spots. Draped over the shoulders of her dressmaker's form was a very familiar scarf: red with black spots, a fluffy black pompom fixed to either end. He had seen it before, less than twenty-four hours ago...

 _"For someone as unique as myself, an original was a must!"_

That was what she had said, so there could be absolutely no mistaking it: this was the _same scarf that Ladybug had worn_!

Was it a Marinette creation as well? But if it was Ladybug's, why did _Marinette_ have it? Why would she-

The scarf wasn't the only spotted thing in the room. Behind the dressmaker's dummy, half-hidden by it and propped against the wall, was a folded banner. He could just see the polka-dot letters among the drape of the canvas. Memories of the banner Marinette had made for Alix and Kim's race flitted through his mind. He had _thought_ the style looked vaguely familiar...

If it had been just one thing alone, he might have still had some doubts; but both things together confirmed it in his mind. He was absolutely certain - _he had found his Lady._

"It really _was_ from you..."

Marinette turned at his words, startled; she had never heard such awe in his voice. He was looking gently at her, green eyes bright. "When I found out the truth, I liked to _think_ it was from you, but it was more than I hoped... sorry, that's selfish of me. I shouldn't be so happy about it when it obviously upset you so much. No wonder you reacted the way you did, when I went to fetch a scarf for that little boy and pulled out this one, of all things! You must have been just as shocked as I was... I'm so sorry for hurting you like that... my Lady..."

He smiled kindly at her. She regarded him with the same stare; if possible, her eyes and mouth were even more agog than before. He knew that the quick, alert mind beneath the pigtails was putting the pieces together, just as he had done.

"...Chat Noir...?" she finally dared to ask; she looked like she was holding her breath.

He grinned at her. "I would never throw away something you made for me, my Lady. How could I? It is paws-itively purr-fect!" He rearranged the folds of the scarf, smoothing it tenderly. "I loved this scarf because I thought it was from someone important in my life; I just didn't know which one before. But from now on, I'll treasure this because it's from you, my Lady."

He took a few tentative steps towards her. She still wasn't saying anything; her hands were clasped over her lips, and her eyes were bright. How had he not noticed it before - the fabric of the scarf was only a shade lighter than the deep, beautiful blue of her eyes!

"...I-I'm g-glad you l-like it, Chat..." she managed to say, in a thick voice.

He gently lay a hand on each of her shoulders. He had comforted her like this before, back when Lieutenant Roger's criticisms had gotten to her. It seemed to work now: she shivered a little, then relaxed slightly beneath his touch.

"I love it, Buginette." He resisted the urge to say _I love you too_ , but held back - that would have been way too much for her! Instead, he asked: "Can I take a seat? I should explain properly. And my kwami will be wanting his lunch..."

Without a word, she nodded. He took the desk chair, laying a piece of camembert on the table for Plagg, while she shakily lowered herself back onto the floor. Something small and red drifted from its hiding place, heading toward a plate of cookies upon the dresser; it waved to Adrien as it passed, and he shyly waved back.

Well, her kwami confirmed everything, if he had still been in doubt at all!

He told her all about the whole mix-up - Nathalie's predicament, the removed label and the lie, the black duffel bag, the surprise discovery - apologizing repeatedly as he went. The shock of it all slowly seemed to sink in: his monologue gradually became a conversation.

"I'm glad your father's assistant didn't lose her job," she said at last, with a sigh. "It doesn't sound like she really deserved to be fired."

Adrien quietly nodded in agreement. If she had raged and railed in righteous fury, he might have been moved enough to dismiss Nathalie after all; but he was glad that his Lady was being her usual compassionate self. It was just one of the things he loved best about her.

"And it wasn't your fault either, Adrien," she added, finally looking directly at him. The sympathy and understanding he saw in those blue eyes nearly took his breath away. "You were deceived even more than I was. I'm sorry you had to go through all that, and thank you for telling me the truth."

He smiled at her. _That was the Buginette he knew and loved!_ "It was the least I could do; I know you despise liars. I'm just glad that you seem willing to accept my apaw-logy!"

"Of course!" She tactfully ignored the pun, but he caught her tiny grimace; it made him grin even wider. "I'm just glad that you like it."

"I think it's paw-esome!" he declared, rocking back and forth happily in her chair, enthusiastically waving the ends of his scarf in the air before him. He looked completely unlike the dignified, composed Adrien Agreste that she knew; more like a kitten batting an imaginary ball of wool. Like her _chaton_.

She giggled at his antics. It was the best sound he had heard all day.

"Well, I guess I'd better get back to school," he said, glancing at the time. He scooped up Plagg, who had been chatting to her kwami, and stowed him back in his pocket.

"Yeah, I should go too." She shrugged out of her cardigan and grabbed her usual jacket; her kwami zoomed over to where her purse lay on the desk, waving at him again before phasing into it. Seeing him watching her get ready in surprise, Marinette blushed. "Uh, I'm not, um... actually that sick. I just... needed some time..."

"Oh." He had thought since he arrived that she hadn't looked that ill to him - just a bit pale, slightly puffy around the eyes. Now he understood: thinking he had discarded her gift, she hadn't been able to face him at school. He dropped his head in shame; he really had wounded her very badly...

Gentle fingers cupped his chin, raising his face to meet her gaze. "It's okay, Minou. It was just a misunderstanding. We're fine now."

He smiled at her, catching her hand and bringing it lightly to his lips; she flushed beautifully, and to his delight, didn't ward him off like she usually did. "I'm glad that you're feeling better now, Princess. But wrap up warmly; you wouldn't want to catch a _real_ chill."

She recovered from her blush enough to roll her eyes. "Yes, Papa Chat," she muttered, making him laugh. She crossed the room, but ignored the polka-dot scarf; she reached into a drawer and pulled out a soft pink-chenille creation instead.

"That one is for later," she said, following his gaze to the dressmaker's dummy. "We have patrol tonight - don't we, Chaton? It will be even colder then."

He chuckled; the sound echoed around the small room, almost like a purr. "You're right, as usual. Just as well I have the warmest, snuggest, most totally amazing scarf in the whole city to keep me warm - Gabriel Agreste himself would be so envious to own a Ladybug creation!"

She laughed lightly, ruffling his hair just below where his kitty-ear would normally be. "Take good care of it then, Adrien."

He winked, looking at her with an unspoken significance in his eyes. "Oh, I will."

* * *

Several hours later, with school over and homework (mostly) done, two teenagers raced across Paris, keeping in-step with each other as they swung and somersaulted effortlessly over the rooftops.

Their scarves trailed out behind them, caught in a chill gust of wind coming off the Seine. One of them was bright red with polka-dots, to match the wearer's suit; the other was a soft cerulean, just a shade lighter than his companion's blue eyes.

* * *

 _Author's note: there, done!_

 _I've had a bit of feedback on the divided Part 1/2 format; so far, it seems most people would prefer it in one big, long chapter. Anyone else have any thoughts on it? I feel bad withholding it when so much of the story is already written; but I understand that people would rather wait for the whole thing than be left with a cliffhanger. Let me know what you think! ~ W.J._


	5. Cheese

**Chapter Five: Cheese**

 _During Mr Pigeon, the waiter accidentally brings the plate of camembert to Ladybug instead of Chat Noir. She takes it up to him herself, finding more than she bargained for behind door number 139..._

* * *

"Your camembert, Mademoiselle."

"Huh...?"

Ladybug turned from the windows to find a waiter in smart livery standing behind her. He carried a silver tray; as she turned, he lifted the cover off it with a flourish, to reveal:

"Ugh-!"

She took an involuntary step back. _Whoa_ , there was no mistaking that smell! It was as if all the cheese-shops in Paris had been crammed under the cloche and left to mature for a few months! She liked cheese as much as the next person, but this was too much - it was seriously ripe!

"Sainte Lacau sur les cruz, 24 months aged," the waiter stated, as if the stench was something to be proud of. "You wanted it runny, mademoiselle?"

Ladybug fought the urge to pinch her nose in disgust; she didn't want to offend, though she was feeling slightly offended herself right now. "I-I don't want it at all," she gasped, trying not to inhale too deeply. "I didn't ask for any..."

In an instant, the immaculate façade of the professional servant underwent a drastic change: his face coloured, his posture went rigid, and he took on a generally more ruffled appearance. "I-I apologize profusely, mademoiselle," he stuttered, clearly embarrassed. "I'm so sorry, w-we're not in the habit of making such mistakes here at the Grand... I was told that I was to take this to the super-hero upstairs-"

"Well, there was a fifty-fifty chance which of us it would be," Ladybug said, a lot more kindly. Now that the shock of the overwhelming odour had worn off, she felt sorry for the poor man - a place as fancy as this probably didn't tolerate too many gaffs of this kind from its employees!

"S-so that means," the waiter went on, "the young gentleman in room 139 is-"

"Yes, he's the one who asked for it."

She remembered now; just before he had gone up in the lift, Chat Noir had requested this cheese specifically. When the mayor had looked askance at her, she had only shrugged; it was only occurred to her a minute later that it must be for his kwami, but she couldn't exactly tell Mr Bourgeoise that anyway. Unless Chat was actually just a cheap-skate, taking the opportunity to feast upon an expensive snack...

"R-right. Sorry again, mademoiselle, I'll take monsieur his order right away."

"Wait!" Ladybug called out, taking a step after the waiter as he began to speed away from her. "I'm take it myself, if you don't mind."

"I wouldn't dream of imposing-"

"No, I'd actually prefer to do it." The man still looked painfully apologetic; she smiled reassuringly at him. "I need to have a tactical discussion with my partner anyway, so it's no trouble at all."

That, and his transformation had probably worn out by now; he wouldn't want to risk someone seeing him out of costume. If anyone was going to accidentally discover who he was, it was far better for it to be her than anyone else - not that she wanted it to come to that!

Having finally prised the waiter away from his burden, she carried the tray through the hotel's hallways, marvelling at the bizarre turns her life tended to take. She had signed up for the hat-design competition just that morning, but it felt like days ago now; who would've thought that she would be carrying a wheel of camembert through the Grand Paris by mid-afternoon?

She glanced at the tray, then held it out at arm's length, trying to keep the pervasive perfume as far away from herself as possible. _Can a kwami really eat this?_ she wondered - she certainly couldn't picture Tikki enjoying it! Come to think of it, cookies were round, and so was the wheel of camembert; perhaps kwami only ate circular foods? She'd have to ask Tikki later on.

* * *

She arrived at the specified door, scoffing slightly at the numbers. _Really, 13 and 9 for a black cat?_ Perhaps someone with a sense of humour had assigned him that room - probably the same joker who had told the waiter to take the camembert to Ladybug!

Speaking of jokers, she wondered what Chat Noir had been doing for all this time. She could picture him luxuriating on a plush bed, propped up on a pile of cushions, asking her to feed him pieces of camembert as if they were peeled grapes - in which case she would ram a pillow over his head, if only to keep his identity hidden!

Balancing the tray on the palm of one hand, she reached out and rapped sharply on the closed door. She sincerely hoped he wouldn't branch out from puns to knock-knock jokes.

"W-who is it?" a tentative voice asked from within.

Ladybug hesitated despite herself. It took her all her time to recognize that voice; it sounded nothing like the cocky, over-confident Chat Noir that she knew. She reminded herself that it wasn't really _her partner_ behind the door - it was whoever he became when he wasn't transformed. The realization made her feel strangely nervous. She had never been this close to Chat while he was out of costume; even with a solid door between them, it was a little disconcerting.

"It's me," she called back, not knowing how else to announce herself. In case that wasn't clear enough, she added: "I've brought some cheese for your kwami."

"Oh, t-thank you!" There was no mistaking it, he sounded anxious - he even went so far as to stutter! It was kind of reassuring to know that he found it as uncomfortable to be caught out of the costume as she did. She had half-expected him to fling the door open and yank her inside, insisting that she gaze upon the gorgeousness of his unmasked visage against her will; she had kept her free-hand balled in a fist just in case.

"Can you leave it outside the door?"

"Yeah, sure..." _Good,_ she could make her delivery and get away from this awkward situation as fast as possible - discussions of pigeon flight-paths could wait until later!

She was about to set the tray down, when it occurred to her to scan the corridor, just in case someone was watching. An instant later, she was glad she had: a metallic glimmer from a bracket set in the ceiling caught her eye.

"No, I can't, there's a security camera out here!"

It appeared to be trained on this particular door. _Was it some kind of conspiracy?_ she thought, frowning to herself. Had someone manipulated these events to try and capture footage of them while they were unmasked? She quickly realized that the idea was silly; she doubted anyone would go to such an effort, especially since it was only chance that the pigeons had led them to The Grand at all. It was more likely just a freakish string of unlucky events - her partner was a black cat, after all! She remembered that bad luck was said to come in threes. The misplaced cheese and the well-placed camera made two - maybe the third was his allergy to feathers? But that seemed to be worth a whole mountain of misfortune on its own...

"Move away from the door," she ordered him, using the same voice she used in the middle of their battles; she hoped it would lend them both a bit of confidence. The way they were acting over something so simple was a bit silly! "I'll open it and leave the tray just inside; I promise I won't look. You can come and get it as soon as the door is closed."

"R-right!" She thought she heard him shuffle back a few paces. She _hoped_ he had, for his own sake; if she came through the door and found him right in front of her, she would send him flying!

Taking a deep breath, telling herself that opening a mere door was nothing to get so nervous about, she turned the handle and pushed. A sliver of hotel suite was revealed to her: she caught glimpses of thick carpet, luxurious drapes, various pieces of furniture in tastefully neutral shades - but no sign of a blonde head anywhere. She breathed a sigh of relief, then bent down, carefully lowering her tray upon the threshold.

"What do you _mean_ it can't be done in time?!"

Ladybug jolted so hard, the camembert nearly tumbled off the tray; she righted it again just in time, her pulse racing. She recognized that voice - it was Chloe Bourgeoise, and she was coming this way!

"I was under the impression that you were the best seamstress in Paris! Was that just pretension? I'm paying you enough, aren't I? If my father has to hear about this-"

The voice was steadily coming closer. In a flurry of panic, Ladybug slipped inside the room, eased the door closed behind her, and stood with her back to it, listening. She was just in time: a few moments later, the voice drew level with her hiding place. There was only one set of footsteps - Chloe was apparently talking on the phone.

"I don't care if you have other orders - that's not _my_ problem! I asked for it today, and I expect it today! You're a grown woman, aren't you? This is a contest for high-school students; if a high-schooler is expected to make a simple hat in the allotted time, I see no reason why you shouldn't be able to-"

The voice faded into the distance. Ladybug gritted her teeth, boiling with rage; it was a wonder the wheel of cheese didn't instantaneously melt in her grasp. Chloe, that filthy cheat! Instead of making an entry for the hat contest herself, she was hiring a professional seamstress to-

"L-ladybug...?"

She almost jumped five foot in the air. Distracted by her fury, she had forgotten about the other occupant of the room! He had spoken from somewhere to her left; she instantly turned her head as far right as she could.

"Er... hi!" she said, irritated to find that her voice was pitched a few notes higher than it should be. She struggled to reclaim her composure - she didn't want him to know how nervous she was to be right next to him while he was out of costume! "Sorry, someone was coming and I sort of panicked, I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, t-that's fine," he said, and she was gratified to note that he sounded as ill-at-ease as she felt. "There's plenty of room in here for us both..." He said that, but it didn't feel like it - when she didn't want to be anywhere remotely in view of him, the walls seemed to be awfully close!

She finally remembered the tray in her hand. "Here, I've got your-"

"Oh, thank you-"

She held out the platter, looking at it out of the corner of her eye to make sure he took it from her without incident. Instead of a hand, something black hovered at the edge of her vision; she bit back a yelp of surprise, turning to look despite herself.

A tiny creature was perched upon the tray, fussing and cooing over its contents. It was black all over, with pointed ears and a tail that flicked from side to side in apparent ecstasy. If she hadn't been so enthralled by the sight of it, she would have marvelled at how it didn't seem to at all mind the stench.

"Finally!" the thing muttered, in an aggravated tone. "My strength was so depleted, I could barely move!" It instantly refuted this statement by hovering over the camembert, inspecting it from every angle; the glowing green eyes wore a wrapt expression.

"Plagg!" a scolding voice hissed somewhere to her left; she turned her head away a degree, taking care not to look at the speaker, but keeping an eye on - Plagg, was it? She had seen a few magic things by now, but a tiny floating cat was somehow still bizarre enough to fascinate her!

"What?" Plagg muttered, breaking off a chunk of cheese in his tiny paw. "I've been starved, and I'm not waiting a moment longer! This is what room service is for, isn't it?"

The hunk of camembert looked too big for his mouth, but he tossed it back, revealing two rows of pointed teeth. They looked strangely predatory for such a diminutive creature; but then, they were in keeping with the features of a cat. After several more mouthfuls and a chorus of delighted mumblings at the tastiness of his treat, Plagg glanced up, finally noticing that the girl who held the tray was staring at him, transfixed.

"Hi there, Miss Bug!" he said, throwing her a genial wave. He didn't pause in his gorging, having apparently decided that some polite table-conversation was called for. "How's Tikki doing?"

Ladybug realized that she couldn't immediately find her voice. It was too weird; since Tikki was the only kwami she had ever known, she had subconsciously decided that she was what the accepted appearance for a kwami was like. At seeing something so much like Tikki, and yet so very different - the whisking tail, the drooping whiskers, the pitch-black colour and luminous eyes! - she was momentarily taken aback.

His eyes narrowed at her, annoyance and suspicion mingling in his gaze. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" he chided her. "You _do_ know who Tikki is, don't you? If you're just an imposter in a fancy suit-"

"N-no, of course I'm not!" She was roused from her stupor by her sense of outrage. "Sorry, Tikki's good, I've just... never seen a kwami other than her before..."

He smirked, looking gratified. "Feast your eyes then, toots! I've long maintained that I'm the handsomest kwami around!"

"Plagg!" said the voice to her left again - this time with increased impatience. "I'm glad you're having fun, but this is no time for idle chit-chat. We still have an akuma to catch!"

"Oh, yeah!" Ladybug tried to re-focus; her observation of the flocks of birds had long-since slipped her mind. "I meant to talk to you about our plan going on from here-"

"Hmph, spoilsports the pair of you," Plagg muttered. He seized what was left of the camembert and tossed it in his mouth, swallowing it in one mighty gulp. Ladybug couldn't help but be impressed: if she had one complaint against her own kwami, it was that Tikki could be a slow eater, taking far longer than she would like to recover her strength.

Something of her admiration must have shown in her face; Plagg eyed her with interest, his expression turning sly. "Hey, Miss Bug, what do you _really_ think of my Chat Noir? He likes you a lot, though he doesn't have the guts to-"

A pale hand shot out, grasping Plagg round the middle and whisking him out of sight. She hastily averted her gaze again, startled. She had actually _seen_ part of her uncloaked partner! It was kind of odd... even if it _was_ just a hand without its black-clawed glove, a hand with smooth nails and slender fingers, wearing a silver ring... huh, the ring looked sort of familiar, but then she saw him wearing his Miraculous every time they-

The sounds of an apparent struggled drifted across from her left. "Hey, watch it!" she heard the black kwami whine; she could recognized his voice now. "You'll give me indigestion, man-handling me like that!"

"Indigestion is the least of your problems!" the voice of her partner railed back, in a furious whisper. "What are you _doing_ , Plagg?! Why did you go and say -"

"I was _helping_ , you doofus! If you'd let me finish-"

"That was _not_ helping! If you find it so entertaining to embarrass me-"

"I was _not_ being embarrassing! You're just being gutless, and I-"

"Do not talk about guts with me, not after you just bloated yourself on-"

"Hey, I was hungry! Why do you have to-"

Ladybug had to admit their banter was kind of funny - though a bit tiresome, under the circumstances. The pair were bickering away like bratty brothers, much to her mystification - to think that a thousands-year-old guardian spirit would behave like this! Then again, Tikki often made her feel like she had a slightly-bossy older sister, so maybe it made sense...

What _didn't_ make sense was where the tiny kwami had managed to put all that cheese - the platter was now completely bare! How could a creature so small devour something with such a huge stench? Curiosity getting the better of her, she glanced at the tray in her hand. Sure enough, the silver was spotless; it appeared to have been licked clean, such was its highly-polished state.

As polished as a mirror...

It took her a moment to fully register what she was seeing. If she had realized sooner, she would have instantly looked away again.

Reflected in the tray, she saw a face framed by blonde hair. It was upside-down, distorted slightly by the tray's surface, and wearing a bemused expression she had never seen on it before; but she _knew_ that face. There was no way she _couldn't_ recognize it: every day, she saw it staring back at her from the posters on her wall, out of the background on her computer monitor, from pages of glossy magazines, across the classroom at school every day-

" _Adrien!_ "

She shrieked out the name without thinking; she managed to scare herself, dropping the tray to the carpet with a muffled thump. Her hands flew to her face, though her eyes were left uncovered; not really knowing what she was doing, she wheeled around to her left and saw-

The same face she had seen reflected in the tray gaped back at her, mouth open in an aghast expression.

"A-A-A-Adrien?!" she stammered again, her voice seemingly disembodied. Just like when he was around her when she was in civilian form, she had no control over what she was saying; to her utter shame, she began to babble at him. "You're Adrien! But Chat, he was here... but now you're here... but Chat was just... Chat and Adrien... if you're Adrien, then Chat is... you are..."

It was doubtful how much of this garbled monologue the boy opposite her managed to take in; he seemed to be suffering from shock himself. A black blur floated out from behind him, hovering near his shoulder.

"Well, that's one way of doing it," Plagg purred, looking highly amused.

Adrien groaned. "This is _not_ how I wanted to do it," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I totally wasn't prepared for this! If we were going to reveal our identities, we should have at least-"

"C-Chat...?" Ladybug asked, uncertainly. Adrien was standing right where Chat Noir had been, and she was in front of the only door in and out of the room; unless Chat had climbed out the window or hidden himself in the closet... but then why was _Adrien_ here, talking to Chat's kwami? It looked like... it seemed impossible, but it was... _he must be..._

Adrien was watching her warily. Seeing that she was gaping at him wordlessly, he took it upon himself to break the silence. He drew up his shoulders; she could see the cat-like hunch in them now. The genial, slightly-goofy grin she was so accustomed to was hovering around his lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Hi there, Buginette!" he said, in a brave attempt at his usual breeziness. "As you can see, I am Adrien Agreste when I'm not being Chat Noir. I'm, um, flattered that you seem to have heard of me. You've already met Plagg-" he shot the kwami a filthy look; Plagg prudently remained quiet "-and I'd love to properly make your acquaintance, but there's a pigeon-man out there somewhere, not to mention several missing policemen who need our help, so if we can postpone proper introductions until later-"

 _Introductions_?! How could she be _introduced_ to him when she _saw him every day and had his pictures plastered everywhere and only obsessed over him every waking moment of her life oh my god!_

"Uh, my Lady...?" He took a tentative step towards her, resting a hand on her shoulder; without the glove, it somehow felt warmer and softer through the layer of her suit. "Are you alright? You're, um, kind of freaking meow-t..."

She blinked, startled by the spectacle she had just witnessed. Did Adrien Agreste... was she dreaming, or did he just...

"Was that supposed to be a pun...?" she asked, with a valiant return of her usual exasperation. Apparently puns were her trigger-point; even when they were coming from the boy whose trainer-clad feet trod the very ground she worshipped...

He grinned at her, and it was as if he had transformed before her eyes: he suddenly morphed so that it was no longer Adrien, but Chat-without-his-mask standing there in front of her. "You know me, my Lady - always _kitten_ around!"

She managed to emit something that was midway between a chuckle and a groan. She was confused; she wanted to let Adrien know how witty and adorable he was, but... that was definitely a _Chat_ joke, and they _never_ impressed her! If she laughed, she supposed it was mostly only nerves... _oh god, how was she supposed to deal with this right now?!_

He seemed to be reassured by her response; he heaved a sigh of relief. "What do you say we go and cage a rare bird, my Lady? Though hopefully we can get it despite my disadvantage... fat lot of good, having a partner who sneezes within sniffing-range of our feathered friend..."

"Chat..." He looked so despondent, her natural instinct was to reach out and comfort him. Just as her hand closed on his, she became acutely aware that she was _touching Adrien Agreste_! Before she could completely freak out over that, a new thought suddenly occurred to her. "The feathers-! The hat-! It's no good, my design - you can't wear the hat! You'll sneeze and blow all the other entries away if I present the design like I had planned! I'll have to revise it, but there's barely any time and I-!"

"Hat...?" he repeated, his face clouded by confusion. "Can you possibly mean... the derby-hat contest? But then you..."

It only then dawned on her what she had said; she could _eat her stupid hat_ , _oh god, why had she blurted that out?!_ Now he would know that she went to his school, and she-

He was looking at her, a heart-rending mix of bafflement and fear in his eyes. She only then realized how stressful his must be for him: on top of not being able to deal with all the feathers and halting their pursuit of the akuma in the middle of their battle, he had just revealed his biggest secret to her, in a way that he had been totally unprepared for. If all that had happened to her, she'd be feeling terrible right now... he must be...

He must be _so scared_...

"Hey, it's okay," she said, reaching out to gently stroke the back of the hand she still held. "I'm sorry I found out like this, it was an accident, and... well, I-I'm a little bit surprised, er... um, actually that's an understatement, but... w-we're not quite as unknown to each other as you'd think..."

She really should be thinking through what she was about to do - or, even better, waiting until she had discussed it with Tikki - but there was no time; he was upset _now_ , and she couldn't bear to see the uncertainty in those beautiful green eyes any longer.

She took a few steps away from him, just barely losing touch with his hand... and dropped her transformation.

To his credit, he yelped and covered his eyes with his hands; then, realizing that she had meant to do it, he slowly looked through his fingers, and saw-

Marinette stood opposite him, her hand still outstretched towards him, a _very_ anxious smile on her lips, a red object hovering just beside her earlobe. He wondered for a second if he was having some sort of episode: a shocked hallucination, in reaction to what had just happened to him... but as he stood, staring and blinking in amazement, the vision in front of him was did not fade an iota...

"H-hi," she said, giving him a bashful wave that was _so_ Marinette, there was no way he was merely imagining it... she really _was_ standing right where Ladybug had just been...

"Marinette...?" he asked, barely trusting his senses - they had betrayed him enough today, damn these allergies! "Is that you? Are you really...?"

"... am I really so hopelessly clumsy all the time, yet somehow manage to be Ladybug when I put on a pair of earrings?" Her voice sounded strange - slightly hysterical - and she was twisting her hands together, not quite looking at him. "Yep, that's me - Ladybug, despite all my ineptness! Tikki has a lot to do with that-" the red creature zipped in close to nuzzle her cheek, he realized it must be her kwami "-but yeah, if we're making introductions, then I-"

She didn't get any further.

She squeaked with shock when he dashed forward and enveloped her in a hug so strong, he lifted her right off the floor and spun her around several times. She had often fantasized about snuggling up against Adrien in her daydreams, but _this_ scenario was too outlandish even for her vivid imagination! She clung to him, too astounded - and too dizzy - to do anything else.

"It's you!" he was saying over and over, as if it were a celebratory chant. "It's you! It's you! Oh my god, it's really you! I'm so glad it's you! You have no idea how terrified I was, when you were looking at me and I had no idea how you'd react and I was sure I had no idea who you were and I-"

His exuberant speech suddenly came to a halt; he seemed to only then realize what he was doing. He hastily set her down, taking care to place her gently on her feet; she looked back at him dazedly. "S-sorry, I shouldn't have... it was just such a relief... I d-didn't mean to..."

"I-it's f-f-fine," she managed to say, her face practically on fire with the intensity of her blush.

"Um," said an apologetic voice from somewhere beside Marinette. Adrien's eyes fastened on the red shape in surprise; up until now, he hadn't heard it speak. "This is, uh, lovely and all, but... shouldn't you two be going after the akuma? It's been a while now, and the policemen are still-"

"I thought you liked cute things, Tikki!"

At Plagg's teasing purr, both Marinette and Adrien squeaked in embarrassment, jumping a step further away from each other. They were so amazed at how perfectly the other had mirrored their own action, they gaped at each other all over again.

Plagg laughed heartily. "Oh, geez! You pair were obviously made for one another!"

"I agree," Tikki admitted, with a small smile; then her expression became serious again. "But we don't have time for this right now! I know you've both had a bit of a shock, but there's an akuma on the loose, and the citizens of Paris are waiting for you!"

"You're right." Adrien was the first to pull himself together - though not without a serious effort. He went over and peered at the little red creature; she drifted up to his eye-level obligingly. "Tikki, is it? Good to know that one of us is still focused on the task at hand!"

Tikki beamed at him, practically glowing at the compliment.

"Bossiness is not an admirable trait!"

"Plagg!" both Tikki and Adrien yelled at him. Adrien sighed. "I think it's time you went back inside the Miraculous, before you can't say anything else. Plagg, transform me!"

There was a flash of green light, coinciding with Plagg's mutter of protest; when it cleared, Chat Noir stood in Adrien's place. He grinned at Marinette sheepishly - it was weird to be in costume when she wasn't, knowing who they both were now!

"Ready to go, Princess?" he asked, trying to prompt her, since she had gone back to staring open-mouthed at him; it was making him nervous all over again. "If we're going to cage that bird, we'd better shake a tail-feather!"

At his words, something happened: all she did was shift her stance and place her hands on her hips, but it was as if she had just donned the costume that he knew and loved. She raised an eyebrow at him, lips quirked in a coy smile.

"For someone with an aversion to feathers, you're quite the bird-brain!"

He had to take a deep breath, marvelling at how things had changed. That was _his Lady right there_ , and she was _Marinette_ , the classmate who sat behind him every single day in school-! This was going to take some _serious_ getting used to! Luckily, his sense of humour hadn't suffered from the shock; he dipped her a gallant bow, raising his head to flash her a wink. "That's what happens, my Lady, when you put a cat among the pigeons!"

She groaned - why hadn't she seen that one coming! - and shared a look with Tikki that seemed to say: _can you believe this?!_ The kwami giggled in sympathy, then gestured encouragingly towards her earrings. There would be a complete Marinette freak-out session over all this before the day was through; but it would have to wait until later, when Ladybug's work was done! Luckily, Marinette took the hint, shooting her a grateful smile.

"Tikki, transform me!"

When the rosy flash of light subsided, the usual confidence that came with becoming Ladybug didn't seem quite as effective as usual. Marinette was _very_ aware that _oh god, this suit leaves very little to the imagination and Adrien Agreste is standing right there, staring at me... oh god, I'm staring at Adrien Agreste and he's right there, wearing a skin-tight cat suit!_

She laughed nervously, trying to focus on the battle ahead. "Ready to let the feathers fly, Chaton?"

He came out of his own trance, giving her a broad grin. "As they say, birds of a feather flock together - after you, my Lady!"

He chivalrously held the window open for her, letting her leap out first. She passed him as quickly as she could, her mind working torturously: _oh god oh god Adrien could be checking out my behind in this skimpy suit! Oh god, what if he gets in front of me and I start checking out his behind in his skimpy suit?! Oh god I can't take this Tikki please help me..._

Luckily, Chat Noir seemed content to run alongside her. "Where are we headed?" he asked, when he had followed her across several city blocks without uttering a word.

Ladybug looked up with a start. She had forgotten all about the bird formations she had spied through the hotel window; luckily, they seemed to be headed in the right direction. "Follow the flight path!" she told him.

He trained his gaze upwards as well. "Understood," he called back to her, keeping pace with her as they sprinted through a landscape of chimneys.

 _Adrien does what I tell him to do,_ she allowed herself to think as she navigated the roofs on auto-pilot, seeing him expertly leap and tumble alongside her out of the corner of her eye. This was all going to take _a lot_ of getting used to!

* * *

"That went reasonably well."

It was a quarter of an hour later, and they were leaning against the exterior wall of the Palais. With Mr Pigeon defeated, they had somersaulted out the window and landed in the street below, dropping their transformations just in time: a police car had zipped past moments later, full of officers who had come to check on their captured colleagues. Marinette was feeding cookies to Tikki, while Plagg complained at Adrien, who was all out of cheese. He only grudgingly fell silent when Adrien promised to start saving up his allowance to purchase the same extravagant type of camembert he had been served at The Grand Paris.

Marinette hung her head with a groan. "You think _that_ went well?!"

Adrien shrugged. "Despite the circumstances," he suggested.

Marinette slumped against the wall, hugging herself in a paroxysm of shame. "I was totally useless..."

All through the fight, she had been distracted. She had at least managed to use her Lucky Charm pretty well; but then, when she had lunged for the bird-whistle, her hand had landed on top of Chat Noir's - on top of _Adrien's_ \- and she'd frozen up, snatching her hand away before she realized what she was doing. It was Chat who'd had the presence of mind to lift his fist and bring it down on Mr Pigeon's hand, crushing the whistle beneath it. He'd then had to prompt Ladybug to capture the akuma; she'd been too busy berating herself to notice that it was fluttering away.

He reached out to pat her on the shoulder consolingly. "You did no worse than me. I wrecked our surprise attack by sneezing at the worst possible time!"

She smiled gratefully at him, trying to suppress her fluttering stomach at the presence of his touch. "At least you had a legitimate excuse. I just..."

"It's been an eventful day," he said, kindly. He straightened suddenly, glancing fearfully at his watch. "Event! Today! The competition ends in less than half an hour! I have to be there to help Father with the judging! And you - what about your entry? Shouldn't you be-"

"It's alright." Marinette leaned back, watching a stray pigeon flap away into the clear blue sky. "I've given up on it - there's not enough time. Besides, I overheard Chloe back at the hotel; she's hired a professional seamstress to make her design. There's no way I could compete-"

"Are you _kidding_?!" Adrien pushed himself off the wall with sudden determination; he looked incensed. "I can't believe she'd do that! No, wait, actually I _can_ believe she would. But she shouldn't get away with it - and you shouldn't give up either!" He pulled out his phone, beginning to text furiously. "What do you have left to do?"

Marinette reluctantly stood up; she honestly couldn't see how she could pull it off, having lost so much time and with the deadline looming _way_ too closely. "Not that much. A bit of stitching around the band... and there was a piece of trim I thought of, but I'd need to go and get-"

He triumphantly held up his phone. "My driver will be here in... two minutes! Where do you need to go?" Seeing her look wonderingly at him, he offered his hand, smiling encouragingly. "Come on, Princess - you're going to the ball, and your coach is on its way!"

For once, she didn't scoff or snark at his joke. She simply took his hand, her insides fluttering again when he squeezed it gently.

One minute and forty-six seconds later, Adrien's car screamed up to the curb. When the driver had gotten the message, he had been frantic: he was to pick up his charge as soon as possible, from the middle of an area where there had just been an akuma attack. He expected to be directed to drive to a hospital, or to a doctor's clinic; to a convenience store for bandages, at very best.

Instead, his passenger flung open the door, pulling a young girl into the car beside him. "It's an emergency!" he declared, peering over the partition at his anxious chauffeur. "We need you to take us to the florist on Gottlieb Street, quick as you can!"

* * *

Afterwards, Marinette honestly wasn't sure how she managed it.

Sure, compared to defeating an akuma, finishing her derby-hat was not such a big deal. Still, it was a relatively small deal at the end of a very big day.

Maybe, after everything else that had happened, she just no longer had the capacity to panic over anything any more. Maybe plain-old Marinette had temporarily gone on leave, letting the part of her that was Ladybug take over in her stead.

Or maybe it was because Chat Noir was there every step of the way, supporting her and watching her back.

Adrien accompanied her to the florist, then escorted her back to her place. While she attached the hat-band to the brim, he fussed over the box she would use to transport it in, lining it with tissue-paper in a practiced motion that suggested he had done it before. She had no time to freak out over the fact that he was there in her room, a foot away from her while she worked, complimenting her efforts and encouraging her progress with a stunning frequency. She also didn't have time to take down any of her posters of him; luckily, he seemed to be too preoccupied to notice them.

It was he who saw that they had barely five minutes left and ushered her to the car, despite her protests. She was forced to make the last few stitches during the drive, grumbling at every bump in the road that unsteadied her hand, while he cheerfully ignored her. The completed derby-hat finally went into the box, just as the car pulled up opposite the school's entrance.

She didn't have time to notice how he held her hand as he pulled her toward the courtyard; didn't have time to notice when he finally dropped his grasp to take his place beside Mr Damocles, just as the screen of the tablet in Nathalie's hands came to life; didn't even have time to glance at her classmates' entries, as Alya urgently hissed questions at her.

Until her best friend mentioned it, she didn't even notice that Chloe stood beside a plinth upon which a hat that was identical - well, _almost_ identical - to her own stood in readiness.

She saw Alya glowering furiously, balling her fists in readiness for a fight. Across the courtyard, oblivious to his father's critique and Chloe's ingratiating boasts, she saw Adrien tense, his gaze almost livid. She saw him frown, set his shoulders, half-turn towards the judging panel-

Worried that he would make a scene before even Alya had a chance to do so, she waved frantically to him; once she caught his attention, she made a placating gesture, signalling to him to lie low. He looked confused, but gave a tiny nod, obediently returning to his place.

 _Huh._ It still amazed her that he completely commanded her heart, and yet she could boss him around as if it was nothing...

"Want me to take care of her?" asked Alya, who had watched this silent exchange in a state of bewilderment.

Marinette didn't look at her. Her eyes were focused on Adrien - on her _partner_ , who was always willing to follow her lead, implicitly trusted her judgement, had complete and total faith in her ability. She squared her shoulders a little more. She was _Ladybug_ \- and she had a botched akuma-capture to make up for!

"No, leave it to me," she whispered back to Alya. She heard her friend's quiet gasp of surprise... and smiled a sly smile. The kind of smile that Ladybug usually wore when she had a plan. Across from her, Adrien beamed. He recognized that look - it meant that Chloe's retribution would be swift and _brutal_.

It was disconcerting, having Gabriel Agreste scrutinize her work. It was nerve-wracking, hearing his inevitable denouncement. It was... only mildly infuriating to have to wait out Chloe's show of theatrics. It was unnerving to have Mr Agreste fix his eyes on her when she offered him an explanation (even if he wasn't there in person). But her nerves seemed to now be knit from pure steel, as strong and unbreakable as the string of her yoyo.

She took a deep breath, and began her defence of her work.

"Everything is handmade on my derby-hat, from the embroidery, to the weaving of the headband, through to the seam of the edge. I'm the one who created everything - save for this embellishment." She gestured at the decoration that was fixed to the hat-band. "My original concept included a feather as trim; however, in light of your son's allergy to feathers - which really should have been included in the design brief, since it is such a common ornamentation for hats, and an important consideration for the sake of the model - the final version was altered to include a suitable replacement. And finally, the hat has a particularity that only its true creator could know about-"

She turned the hat over, feeling the gaze of everyone riveted on her, feeling the power of it pulse through her, knowing that she _had this_ as surely as if she had just cast her Lucky Charm:

"I signed it."

The moment Chloe's hat toppled from its pedestal, it also dropped from the podium; she _knew_ then that she was victorious.

Adrien was beaming delightedly at her from behind the judging panel; she caught his eye and winked at him. They were too far away to share their customary fist-bump - it would have been far too much of a give-away in front of Alya anyway - but the action, and the words that accompanied it, seemed to cross the space between them.

 _'Bien joué!'_

* * *

"Man, what a day!"

Adrien was slumped on a bench in the school courtyard beside her, each of his long, lithe limbs stretched out at a different angle. He still had her hat on his head; in stark contrast to the jaunty way he had donned it when her win had been announced, it was now pulled half-down over his face. He would've had an excellent view of the hand-stitched inner lining, if he'd had Chat Noir's night-vision.

Marinette looked up from her phone. She had been energetically texting her parents, filling them in on everything that had happened (well, _nearly_ everything). From the look of it - based on the long delays in between responses - Alya was doing the same, filling them in on some minor details; given the way her eyes kept darting between herself and her model , she had a pretty good idea what extra info her parents were receiving. Her mother's cryptic instructions to 'go celebrate with someone special' were telling. _Oh god, could this day get any more insane..._

She smiled at Adrien's words. "Would you say it went well, despite the circumstances?"

He chuckled and sat up, pushing the hat back properly onto his head; she was treated to the sight of those gorgeous green eyes glinting sideways at her. "Yes, I _would_ say that. You handled it all superbly!"

She fumbled her phone back into her purse, taking care not to jostle Tikki, who silently smiled her congratulations up at her. She could have sworn that she'd caught Plagg waving at her from behind Adrien's collar a minute ago - maybe he was just trying to hassle her for cheese.

"If I did okay, it was only because I had my amazing partner to support me," she said, wishing she didn't blush so easily.

To her great surprise, his face became suffused with a subtle flush; he smiled almost shyly. "N-no, I didn't really do that much," he protested. The little hitch in his voice took her completely unawares; it made her stomach flip in a very gratifying manner. Did he just... _stutter at her?_ "All I did," he went on, "was to stand by, totally amazed, as my amazing partner presented her amazing hat in an amazing way, then amazed an amazingly unfair cheat with her amazingly eloquent, unassailable defence of an amazing design. It was amazing! How many 'amazes' was that?"

"I lost count," Marinette muttered, fighting hard to contain an internal fit of squeals. _Who knew that Adrien could be such a dork - it was adorable! But she didn't dare let Chat Noir know that, if he found out it would only make him even more insufferable!_

"A maze of amazes," Adrien declared, looking very self-satisfied. "I amaze myself sometimes!" She groaned, but couldn't help wearing a grin; he knew it, beaming contentedly to himself. "Congratulations, by the way," he added, tipping the brim of her hat in salute. "It was very well-deserved... I think. With everything else that has happened, I haven't had a chance to properly look at it yet!"

He took the hat off and held it in front of him, turning it this way and that, admiring it from every side. She watched him anxiously.

"It's incredible!" he finally declared, with such sincerity she almost melted right through the slats of the bench she sat on.

"Y-you're just saying t-that because your father approved it!" She desperately tried to just brush it off, her face a fiery scarlet.

He firmly shook his head. "Oh no, my assessment counts for just as much on its own - I have impeccable taste!" Having delivered this quip - and succeeded in lessening her blush by a few shades of red with it - he went back to examining the hat. "What is this...?"

He pointed to the grey plume that was attached to the hat-band with a red bead. He ran a gentle finger over it; it was surprisingly soft. It _looked_ a bit like a feather, but...

"No allergies?" she asked, in a lightly teasing tone.

He smiled ruefully - not only did his Lady now know who he was, she was also aware of his weakness! "Nope, not a single sneeze! But what _is_ it? Is that some sort of... flower?"

She chuckled - he mustn't have ever seen this before! _Oh boy, when she explained..._

"It's a type of plant. It's called a... a cat's tail..."

His eyebrows shot up. He gave her a questioning look. "Cat's tail? _Seriously_?"

"Y-yeah..." she bashfully glanced aside. "I, uh, I p-pass that florist every day on the way to school, and, um... e-every time I see it, it r-reminds me of Chat..."

He smirked delightedly, looking more than a little flattered. "It's purr-fect!" He placed it on his head again, carefully smoothing the brim. "Purr-fect for Chat Noir, of course! Perhaps he should model it instead of me?"

Marinette giggled - she was still getting used to the fact that they were one and the same person! "That's a good idea," she joked right back at him, marvelling at how daring she was able to be - a marked difference from how she had hidden behind this very bench from him this morning! "Perhaps you should ask Mr Agreste if our Chaton can take your place in the photo shoot?"

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Or maybe he can just wear it for patrol once it is no longer needed in the Agreste style archives. I'm sure Ladybug would enjoy looking at it - not to mention gazing in admiration at the handsome hero beneath it! Don't you think so, my Lady?"

Marinette had no clue what to say in answer to that; she turned a shade of crimson that would have rivaled Tikki's complexion. He was... he was _flirting with her oh god if every fight against an akuma was going to be like this she would never be able to aim her yoyo straight ever again!_

She was saved from having to respond by Alya; perhaps having noticed her dilemma from a distance and opted to come to her rescue, she tactfully interrupted, approaching them with her phone in hand. "Hey guys, how about a photo of the designer and model?" she suggested. Her tone was innocent, but she shot Marinette a look that said: _girl,_ _we have_ got _to commemorate this!_

"Sure," Adrien said, apparently not noticing any subtext. He straightened the hat, adjusted a stray lock of hair, and moved a little closer to Marinette, until their arms just barely touched. Struggling to ignore the electric currents shooting through her from the contact of his skin against hers - _oh god_ \- she somehow managed to stay upright, wearing an ecstatic smile that quite possibly extended beyond the sides of her face. She felt even better when she chanced a glance sideways and noticed how his own face was ever-so-slightly tinged pink...

Alya gazed gleefully at screen of her phone, taking in how cute they were together - and how close her best friend looked to exploding from pure happiness! "Smile for the camera, kids!" she ordered them, like a photographer taking a class portrait, drawing out the moment to make it last longer - Marinette could thank her for it with a gazillion croissants later on! "Say cheese!"

At her words, both Adrien and Marinette simultaneously darted each other quizzical looks.

 _Cheese?_ That had been the thing behind the start of this whole affair! They shared a meaningful glance, suppressing identical fits of laughter. Just as when they fought side-by-side as their superhero selves, some unspoken agreement passed between them; they weren't at all surprised when, a moment later, they spoke in unison.

"Camembert!" they both said as one, leaning towards each other without any further hesitation. He draped his arm around her shoulder in a way that seemed completely natural; while her own, with far less nerves than one might expect, curled instinctively round his waist.

Between them, they could feel Plagg struggling beneath the folds of Adrien's shirt. They faintly heard his complaint that they were taunting him, talking about his favourite food without having any to give to him.

* * *

 _Author's note: this chapter turned out a lot longer than I thought it would! That is going to become a common complaint from me, I can tell. I was like 'yeah, a chapter on cheese, nice and simple, shouldn't take long...' and then it ballooned in size (a bit like Plagg after eating a whole wheel of camembert)._ _I thought I'd mix it up a bit; it feels like most of my story ideas (both complete and as-yet-unwritten) involve Adrien finding out first and having to break it gently to Marinette. I wanted to write at least one chapter where Marinette found out who he is first - and has a total mental flip over it!_

 _In case anyone is wondering, these chapters aren't in chronological order by episode; in fact, they don't have *any* order, I just dip into my store of ideas and write about whatever the heck I feel like at the time. I have no idea yet what the next 'item' will be, so stay tuned!_

 _By the way, I think I've mentioned before that I have a long-format Miraculous story also currently in the works. I haven't given away the title here, since I was planning on renaming it; previously it was known as 'School of Luck', but I have since changed it to 'A Class Act'. If you haven't already checked it out yet, please consider it! ~ W.J._


	6. Book

**Chapter Six: Book**

 _Plagg falls ill, forcing Adrien to take him to a healer. While there, he sees a very familiar book, which Master Fu lets him borrow. When he takes it to the library to decode it, he finds a very unlikely study partner..._

* * *

Adrien wiped the sheen of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. The road before him shimmered in a heat-haze. He could faintly feel the warmth of the pavement emanating up through the soles of his sneakers.

He could almost imagine that the narrow laneway he jogged along was a stretch of barren desert, and he was in search of an elusive oasis. His musings weren't too far from the truth: he was carefully scrutinizing the numbers on the buildings he passed, making sure he didn't miss the one he was after. He knew the address of the place he wanted, but finding it in an unfamiliar part of town was proving to be difficult.

He was keenly aware of how long it was taking him to get there. Going on foot wasn't exactly the fastest way, but it wasn't like he could just get his chauffeur to drop him off at the doorstep - not without making up some kind of elaborate excuse. He might have found it easier as Chat Noir, navigating over the rooftops without sudden detours and blind alleys to disorient him, but... well...

The small lump inside his shirt felt even hotter than he did. He parted the fabric as much as he dared at the risk of his tiny passenger being spotted, hoping some cooler air might circulate. He peered worriedly at his inner pocket.

Plagg was curled up inside, his eyes shut tight. He was shivering all over, as if with cold. Though he looked like he could have been sitting in an ice-tray, he felt far warmer than seemed healthy for any living thing - even for a kwami.

"Nearly there," Adrien murmured, trying to sound reassuring.

Plagg's eyes opened into narrow green slits. "F-f-finally," he muttered, in a weak whisper that, even in the quiet back-street, was barely audible. "Y-you're t-taking your s-s-sweet t-t-time about-t it."

Normally, Adrien would have conjured up a biting reply to such criticism. But he didn't have the heart to right now, not when his kwami was struggling just to get those few words out. After a moment, deciding that his lack of a comeback would only betray his worry - and that the distraction might do them both good - he half-heartedly grumbled: "What kind of idiot gets sick in hot weather, anyway?"

"H-hey, I d-d-don't m-make fun of h-how s-s-stupid this-s h-heat m-m-makes y-your hair l-l-look."

Adrien frowned - not because the jibe really bothered him, but because it wasn't nearly up to Plagg's usual standard. He only resorted to unkind comments about his hair when he was feeling particularly annoyed, or particularly drained. He quickened his pace, watching the house numbers pass him by at a maddeningly slow rate.

Plagg had seemed a bit off-colour for a few days now, ever since the heat-wave began. Adrien had assumed that his sudden sluggishness was no different from his usual laziness. When the kwami's appetite dipped, he had finally started taking notice. He had only realized just how serious it was that morning, when he had joked that it was hot enough outside to melt cheese into fondue, and Plagg had only blinked at him.

Plagg not-reacting to mentions of cheese was like Ladybug laughing at Chat Noir's puns: it just wasn't _done_.

Adrien had been blissfully unaware that kwamis could even _get_ sick; having found out in the worst possible way, he'd had no idea what to do. He couldn't take Plagg to a run-of-the-mill veterinary clinic without someone calling the local tv station - or the local fumigator. Reaching desperation-point when his tiny companion started to shake uncontrollably, he had begged Plagg to tell him what he could do to help. Though the kwami had seemed reluctant, he had given him the address of a nearby healer who should be able to help.

Adrien completely understood his lack of enthusiasm. Much as he wanted his kwami to get better, he was less-than-eager to involve an outsider. From the time they had met, Plagg had always been _his_ secret, and his secret _alone_ ; the idea of someone else knowing _what_ the kwami was - and who _he_ was - induced a series of panicked thoughts. Be that as it may, there was no way he was going to simply wait for Plagg's symptoms to disappear on their own. Much as he was irritating, infuriating, often close to intolerable - not to mention how expensive it was to keep him supplied with cheese - his kwami meant a lot to him, far more than he dared to admit. There was no way he was going to even _think_ about taking any chances with the health of someone so important to him.

Still, as he sped along the street, eying the street-signs cautiously as he went, several worst-case scenarios flashed through his mind. What if the healer trapped Plagg and refused to give him back? What if they treated him like a giant bug and tried to swat him? What if they guessed what the kwami was and figured out that he was Chat Noir? What if letting the reveal of their secret exposed them to Papillion? What if-

He belatedly realized that he was so busy worrying, he had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. A large brass number beside a bright-red front door caught his eye, and he instantly skidded to a halt. His shirt swung with the momentum; he hastily clutched at his pocket as Plagg swayed inside the fabric, terrified that the kwami might accidentally phase out through it. Trying to ignore the tremor against his palms, he looked up at the building opposite him.

At least he had finally found the right place.

He _knew_ it was the right one when the sign in the window caught his eye. He recognized one of the symbols: the Chinese character for 'doctor'. It was one of the first bits of Mandarin he'd ever learned, along with several other words that might prove particularly useful to any overseas traveller. He rather doubted he would ever make it to China himself - his father barely let him across the _street_ , let alone half-way round the world - but at least his lessons served some kind of purpose.

He opened the door and went in, quickly spotting another sign in French that told him Master Fu's healing-room was on the second floor. He took the stairs two at a time; panting slightly, he knocked upon the appointed door.

It only occurred to him as he stood there, heart hammering in his chest, that he didn't yet know how he was going to explain to Master Fu what Plagg was.

* * *

Adrien had seen enough kung-fu films to have formed a pretty good idea of what a Chinese healer should look like. He had pictured a tall, dignified figure with flowing white hair, dressed in magnificent robes of silk brocade.

He was slightly disappointed to find that Master Fu was a diminutive old man with short, greying locks, wearing a very un-traditional Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. He silently berated himself for expecting something so stereotypical. In a way, he was glad that Master Fu's appearance was so commonplace; it diverted him from his immediate worries.

Plagg was laid out on a cushion, dwarfed by the large mat that Master Fu had spread on the floor. Again, Adrien had some vague ideas of what 'Chinese healing' might entail: acupuncture, mysterious incantations, draughts of bitter herbs. Nothing quite prepared him for Master Fu's actual methods. The healer lit a stick of sweet-smelling incense, put a record of calming music on an ornate gramophone, and... struck a small hand-held gong directly over Plagg's prone head.

Adrien wasn't exactly sure what _banging a gong_ was supposed to do for his kwami's health. Sure, the sound was actually quite pleasant; but it was not exactly mystical, besides being really, _really_ weird. He was glad when, after a few minutes of this 'treatment', Master Fu replaced the gong on its shelf. He instead began making cryptic hand-gestures over his small patient.

Adrien kept waiting for something to happen - a miraculous healing light, glimmering clouds of magic, perhaps some unseen force that would make Plagg levitate in the air.

 _Nothing._

He knelt beside the mat, only self-discipline learned from several sessions of karate lessons keeping him from fidgeting in place. For about the tenth time since he had arrived, he glanced uncertainly at Master Fu. The old man was wafting his hands over Plagg in an array of mysterious sigils, his eyes half-closed.

Maybe this was just a precursive ritual. Maybe the real healing was yet to come. Maybe, in a moment, he would really start to-

"It is done."

"W-Wha-?" Adrien looked up with a start, wondering if he had heard right.

Master Fu smiled blandly at his dumbfounded expression. "It is done. The healing was a success."

Adrien looked sceptically down at Plagg. The kwami had stopped shaking, and now lay completely motionless. He wasn't sure if that was a good sign, or a very _bad_ one. He leaned closer, looking for signs for life. After a moment, to his immense relief, Plagg gave a slight twitch. Rolling over on the cushion, he stretched luxuriously, then opened his eyes; their shade of green looked far more vibrant than it had in days. The kwami glanced around rapidly, recollecting where he was. As soon as his gaze locked on Adrien, he zipped toward the cover of the boy's shirt. Adrien felt him wriggle down into his accustomed pocket, not complaining even once that the light fabric was smothering him.

It really _had_ worked - _Plagg was better!_

The sense of relief hit him like a tidal wave. He hadn't fully realized until then just how worried he truly was. He hastily blinked back tears, feeling silly, but utterly elated. _If anything had happened to Plagg..._

Master Fu was beaming at him, patiently waiting for him to recompose himself. Fighting back his emotions as best he could, Adrien swivelled on his knees to properly face the old man, smiling gratefully. He raised his closed right fist and clasped his left over it in a gesture of thanks, dipping a slight bow.

" _Xie xie, Sifu_ , for your generous aid," he said, speaking in fluent Mandarin. "If you hadn't been able to help, I don't know what I would have done!"

"It's no trouble," Master Fu replied in the same language, stroking his chin and regarding the boy thoughtfully. "Your Chinese is very good, young man. You've mastered the accent remarkably well."

"Oh, t-thank you." Adrien self-consciously rubbed the back of his neck, switching over to French. "It's nothing compared to your healing abilities! Uh, how... did you do that?" Even if Master Fu's technique was a bit anti-climatic, it seemed to be highly-effective. Adrien wished he could do something like that - it would work wonders for the bruises he picked up in akuma battles! He wondered if it was possible for him to learn that sort of thing, even if he _did_ possess the power of destruction? Perhaps it was more a Ladybug sort of skill... or perhaps it just depended on the sort of gong you used...

"Ancient Chinese secret," Master Fu said, with what might possibly have been a wink.

Adrien chuckled ruefully, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. _He should have known!_ Oh well, he couldn't really blame the old man. If his father's rivalry with competing fashion-houses had taught him anything, it was that secrecy was good for business. Besides, he had a pretty big secret of his own.

As if he divined his inner thoughts, Master Fu smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I can't give away anything more than that. I'm just glad that I managed to help your...pet." He hesitated over the word, shooting the boy a mildly questioning look.

Adrien stiffened, trying to hide his panic as he searched for an explanation that might make some modicum of sense. "Heh, y-yes, it really was lucky," he babbled, his mind working frantically to supply his mouth with an answer. "Y-You're probably not used to healing ca- uh, birds!" He changed what he had been about to say at the last split-second; even if Plagg looked like a very small cat, there was no way a _flying_ feline was in any way plausible! "H-He's a very rare breed: the Peruvian capped black-bird. Isn't it funny how the crest on the head looks like a pair of ears?" He laughed nervously, hoping that what he said had been even remotely convincing.

"Funny indeed," Master Fu politely agreed. Adrien breathed a sigh of relief - for all of two seconds. "I imagine the fur-like plumage is very good for people with feather allergies."

"Uh, yeah, p-probably," Adrien managed to say, suppressing a nervous gulp. _It was almost as if he knew-_ But of course he didn't, how could he? The old man's expression was blithely innocent.

"Well, I'm glad I could be of service, young man. If your bird ever falls ill again, feel free to bring him back. You can practice your Chinese some more as well, if you wish. It's not often I have such a talented young conversationalist call on an old geezer like me."

"Thank you very much, Sifu," Adrien said, with another half-bow. "I am grateful for the offer." He really was; but he couldn't accept it, much as he wanted to. Besides the difficulty of slipping away to visit without Gorilla or Nathalie noticing he was gone, he couldn't risk Master Fu asking more questions about Plagg. For all Adrien knew, he could be best friends with Papillion...

"I'd better be going," he said as he got to his feet, one hand protectively pressed over Plagg's pocket. With any luck, the kwami would never get sick ever again, making any further treatments unnecessary. They would have to talk about how they could to prevent this from recurring every time Paris had some particularly warm weather.

As he turned to go, Adrien took in the room with a quick glance. He had been so focused on Plagg, he hadn't really looked around; now, he was curious. The only places he tended to frequent were school, lessons or photo-shoots. It was a rare novelty for him to catch more than a glimpse of anywhere else. Master Fu's room had all kinds of furnishings and objects that piqued his interest. The folding screens and bamboo-print wallpaper reminded him of similar he had seen at Marinette's apartment - which made sense, since both Master Fu and Mrs Dupain-Cheng were of Chinese descent. The smoke from the incense-stick coiled languidly in the air, shimmering in the flickering light cast by a cluster of candles. The handsome old gramophone on the sideboard had stopped playing, the record having ended at some point during the session. The space was neat and spare, but not sparse. Besides the cabinet upon which the much-maligned gong stood, the only other large item in the room was a set of well-stocked bookshelves.

As he crossed the room on his way out, Adrien's eyes lingered over the row of neatly-stacked spines that faced him. He liked books in general, and many of these titles tempted him to stop and browse. Most were just the kind of thing he would expect a mystic healer to read: the I-Ching, Taoist theories, a book on the Buddha's teachings; a thick collection of Confucian sayings, tomes on feng shui and reiki. There were several classic texts that he himself had read, some of them in both Chinese and French editions: Sun Tzu's ' _Book of War'_ , _'Brothers of the Marsh_ ', _'The Three Kingdoms_ ', _'Strange Tales of Liozhai_ '. There was a whole shelf dedicated to different versions of _'Journey to the West'_ , including - much to his amusement - what looked like a _'Monkey Magic'_ comic-book. And there, on the end-

He was half-way to the door when he stopped mid-step. _He could've sworn... that looked like-_

He actually took a step towards the shelf, squinting in the dim light. He had thought he recognized it, and now that he looked closer, there was no mistaking it: aged leather binding in a deep shade of burgundy, gold patterns of interwoven double-happiness symbols embossed upon the worn surface.

It was his father's book on Miraculous - the one he had taken from the secret wall-safe at his house, only to somehow manage to lose it at school!

Standing transfixed before the shelf, he started to reach out his hand towards it, before he remembered where he was. He turned to find Master Fu watching him, an inscrutable expression upon his face. "Does that book interest you, young man?" he asked, in what outwardly seemed to be a completely casual tone.

"Yes, it does," Adrien admitted, trying his best not to seem suspicious in any way. If Master Fu knew the contents of that book, there was a chance he might recognize Plagg and suspect... "I, uh, m-my Chinese teacher had a similar one, but I didn't get to finish reading it before he lent it to another student..."

Thankfully, it seemed that detecting lies was not one of Master Fu's mystic powers. "Is that so? Well, you're most welcome to borrow my copy, if you wish. I'm not reading it at the moment."

"Could I?" Adrien asked, before he could stop himself; he hastily scolded himself for sounding so eager. Still, it was too good an opportunity to pass up...

"You may - so long as you promise to return it in good time." Master Fu lifted the book off the shelf and offered it to him.

Adrien considered this condition carefully. It was true that he desperately wanted to replace his father's book before he noticed it was missing, but he couldn't exactly take Master Fu's copy to do so - _could he?_ Much as he was worried about how his father would react once he saw that it was gone, it was wrong to steal from an old man - especially one who had been so kind to him, helping Plagg without asking _too_ many questions. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage in a different way; if there was an author or publisher's details written somewhere on the book, he might be able to order a new copy for his father and put it in the safe before he knew it had ever been gone.

Besides, he really wanted to read it himself. If there was anything in it about Miraculous, then Chat Noir should look at it. And, now that he thought of it, so should Ladybug...

"Of course," he said out loud, taking the book with reverent hands. Thanking Master Fu again for his help, he left the room, gently closing the door behind him.

As soon as he was out in the hall, he placed the book securely in his satchel.

* * *

On the way home, Adrien bought a cooler-bag from a discount store.

It was a cheap thing, meant for tourists going on picnics or sight-seeing round the city, emblazoned with the colours of the French flag. It wasn't exactly stylish, but at least the insulation seemed to work just fine. Once he got home, he closed the door to his room, shut the blinds to block out the warm sunlight, turned the air-conditioning up full-blast, and... put on a jacket, since he was starting to feel rather chilly. In fact, it reminded him a little too much of being trapped in the refrigerator at the Grand Paris.

Plagg complained that cheese didn't taste its best when it was over-chilled, so Adrien stacked his camembert on the couch beside the cooler-bag. Every so often, Plagg would half-phase out through the side of it, snatching another wheel before disappearing in a chorus of munching sounds.

Adrien grinned as another empty wrapper shot out of the mouth of the bag. It was good to see Plagg back to his normal self.

He turned his attention to the book on the desk in front of him. He tentatively lifted the cover... and gave an immense sigh of relief. He would have felt like a real idiot if this book had an identical cover to his father's, but was completely different on the inside. Luckily, he opened it to find that the contents were exactly the same, as far as he could tell. He leafed through it carefully, paying close attention. He hadn't had a chance to study it as thoroughly as this before: he had only hastily leafed through it, first in his father's office, then when he thought Lila was looking the other way (not the best idea, as it had turned out). Now he examined it minutely, taking in as many details as he could.

It was weird, seeing a picture of a Chat Noir who had all the same features as him - ears, claws, tail, baton - but wasn't really anything _like_ him (though the traditional costume was kind of cool; he wondered if it was easier to move in, not being skin-tight like his own suit). And Ladybug... well, she looked as amazing, but he was adamant that his own Lady was far more beautiful. And stronger, smarter, more talented and accepting of puns - but that was his own personal bias. He grimaced as he flipped over to Volpina's page; the illustration looked eerily similar to Lila's akumatized form. Did that mean that Papillion had seen this book? Or had he just used the image of Volpina in Lila's mind to bring her concept to life? He hadn't yet done the same with the bee, peacock or turtle kwamis. Each of these was completely new to Adrien; he gazed at them in wonder.

Were there really that many other heroes out there besides him and Ladybug? Where were they? Why hadn't they appeared? Where was the real Volpina? What had she/he/they thought of their impostor, if they had seen her?

The book was giving him far more questions than answers.

The prevailing question was this: _what were those weird symbols on every single page?_ They looked like some kind of writing, and probably would have provided at least a few answers, if he could read them. They looked like captions for the illustrations, but they didn't resemble any language he could think of.

And he'd thought of a fair few. He'd Googled every possible form of writing that occurred to him: Cyrillic, Coptic, Demotic, Hieroglyphs, Cuneiform, Korean, Kanji, Hebrew - even Morse code. He got absolutely no matches. The most frustrating thing was that he was _sure_ he had seen something similar before, but he had no clue where. In Master Fu's room, perhaps? He had the feeling it was something far more familiar than that...

He smacked the edge of his computer keyboard in irritation, only succeeding in making his Chinese dictionary topple over when the table shook.

 _Chinese..._

He brought up a new tab in his web browser and searched for 'simplified Chinese' in Google Images. Rows of neat, angular symbols met his gaze. He gripped the arms of his desk chair excitedly. _Yes, that was it!_ They weren't exactly identical, but the icons in the Miraculous book looked a bit like simplified-Chinese that had been broken down into even more basic components. He _knew_ he'd seen those signs somewhere before - he'd once purchased a wuxia novel to use as practice for his Mandarin lessons (and just because he wanted to read the story), only to find he had accidentally ordered the simplified-Chinese edition instead of the standard version. Simplified-Chinese was similar to standard Chinese characters, but different enough to prevent him from reading it with ease. Still, if the symbols in this book were enough like simplified-Chinese for him to recognize and translate them, maybe he would be able to decipher the code!

He tried using an online translator for a few minutes, but was unimpressed with what little progress he made. He didn't like having to search for one term at a time; he would prefer to have a proper book he could browse through, comparing entries and browsing for random symbols. He needed a dictionary...

He turned to the cooler-bag across the room. "Feel like heading out, Plagg?" he addressed it. "I need to go to the library. That bag should keep you cool, and we can come back here as soon as you start to feel too warm."

Plagg's head emerged from the lip of the bag; the flap shuddered as he gave a complacent shrug. "Sure, I don't mind. It's getting a bit stuffy in here anyway. Oh, and I'll only come if you stop by that deli two blocks over. This cheese isn't _nearly_ enough for me to rebuild my strength with."

Adrien shook his head, smiling wryly to himself. Yep, Plagg was perfectly fine now.

* * *

Adrien pulled the stack of books that formed one side of his improvised cubicle a little closer to him. He had littered about a few other Chinese dictionaries besides the one he was actually using, hoping no one would notice the Miraculous book among them. After the disappearance of his father's book, he was being extra careful - there was _no way_ he was going to lose Master Fu's copy as well!

He would have preferred to borrow the dictionary he needed and take it back to the privacy of his room, but the librarian had briskly informed him that items from the reference collection was not permitted to leave the library. He didn't dare risk calling his Mandarin tutor to apply for special permission - word might get back to his father, and in any case he would have to explain his sudden interest in learning simplified-Chinese. He didn't really mind; the library was a nice space to be in, bright and airy, smelling pleasantly of old books. It was hardly very busy - he had chosen a small, local public library over the bustling Bibliothèque Nationale de France, as an extra safeguard against book-snatchers - but the presence of a few casual browsers was kind of soothing, compared to the stark loneliness of his bedroom.

The air-conditioning seemed to be keeping Plagg comfortable. The librarian had glanced suspiciously at the cooler-bag, but permitted him to bring it with him. He kept it close to his ankle beneath the desk, just as protective of it as he was of Master Fu's book. He had even bought a wedge of Saint Lacau sur les cruz on the way there to keep his kwami occupied, in case he got bored and wandered off to make mischief.

After all he had just gone through for Plagg, he wasn't taking any chances.

Half-absorbed in what he was doing, he heard the door to the library open. When he had first arrived and set himself up, he had surreptitiously lifted his head to scrutinize every new arrival who came in; but after less than an hour, he had given up on this precaution. Besides the fact that he had no idea what the previous book-thief might look like, all the people who came in seemed to be regular library patrons: parents with kids borrowing stacks of picture-books, teens in search of free wifi, pensioners wanting to read the newspaper in peace. Though their comings and goings were mere background noise here in his secluded corner, he still kept an ear out just in case.

He heard the librarian speak to whoever had just come in. She tended to give just a cursory word to some visitors, while others she greeted like regulars; this was one of the latter. "Oh, hello, dear! Good to see you again. Have you come for more design books? We just got some new ones with embroidery patterns, and others on crochet-"

"Thank you, madam," a voice politely answered. "Perhaps some other time. Today I'm just picking up some books for Maman."

"From the Chinese section?" the librarian asked.

Adrien tensed slightly. Until now he had had the small reading room off the main atrium entirely to himself; but if this person wanted the Chinese collection, they would have to walk right past him. He remained slightly on edge, though he told himself he was being irrational. It wasn't like Papillion was coming towards him; the voice sounded like that of a young girl. In fact, it sounded vaguely familiar...

"Do you need help finding what you're after?" the librarian asked.

"No thank you, madam," the voice replied; he could swear he had heard it before, but maybe he was just being paranoid...? "I've got the call numbers of the books I need, even if I can't read the titles."

Both the girl and the librarian chuckled. Adrien smiled despite himself. So she couldn't read Chinese, but the books were for her mother? That was just like...

"Okay, but call me if you need any help, alright?"

"Thank you, I will."

A pair of soft footsteps steadily approached his desk. Adrien kept his head down, pretending to concentrate on the paper in front of him, moving his pen slightly as if he was writing something. His senses were on full alert, trained on this intruder, waiting for her to go past before he relaxed his vigilance.

The footfalls came towards him... then stopped. He heard a slight intake of breath.

He resisted the urge to look for a few long moments, puzzling over what it meant, wondering why whoever it was had come to such a sudden halt. Had the book been recognized? Had _he_ been recognized? If it was some invasive fan wanting an autograph-

He lifted his head to find his classmate Marinette frozen in front of him, watching him with wide eyes.

For a moment, he simply stared at her like she was doing at him, too surprised to do anything else. Then he realized he was being silly. This library was close to his own house, and she lived nearby as well; she must come here all the time. There was no untoward reason for her to be here, he had just run into her by chance.

And the fact he was staring at her was probably freaking her out.

He forced himself to smile. "Hi there," he said, waving his pen at her.

She seemed to snap out of her stupour, flailing on the spot for a moment before regaining her balance. He resisted the urge to chuckle. Marinette was smart and talented, but a little spacey. He supposed it came with being a creative type; he had been around fashion-designers all his life, and had known several who were a bit like her in his time. He fully believed that Marinette would become one of the greats someday; her work was already exceptional. He just hoped she would turn out to be as distant and preoccupied as his father. Given how kind and considerate she always was, he sincerely doubted she ever would.

"Oh, h-hi," she quavered nervously back at him.

That was the _other_ thing about Marinette: she either had confidence in spades, or she was painfully shy. It used to freak Adrien out, thinking that she still hated him for the gum incident, until he became accustomed to it. That was apparently just how Marinette was.

 _But is it really just shyness now?_ Adrien noticed, to his alarm, that her wide blue eyes were trained not on him, but on Master Fu's book. His own green eyes darted nervously between her and the heavy tome, which was opened to a page on the turtle Miraculous. He wanted to slam the book closed, but it would be way too obvious that he was trying to conceal it if he did.

She seemed to notice that she was staring; she dragged her eyes back to him, giving him a small, apologetic smile. "What are you... working on?" she asked hesitantly.

He drew a Chinese dictionary towards himself, trying to look casual. "Mandarin homework," he said, with deliberate nonchalance. "Don't worry, it's not for school; you're not missing out on any homework."

She breathed a sigh of relief that, to his amusement, seemed slightly exaggerated. "Thank goodness for that!" she murmured, pressing a hand to her chest. "It looks really hard!"

"It's not really," he answered, honestly. "Not if you know a bit of Chinese already."

"I know a little bit," she admitted.

Adrien cursed himself for making conversation like this. He wanted to be alone to get on with his task, but he was too polite to tell her to leave.

"Really?" he asked instead. He had thought she had needed him to translate for her uncle that time because she didn't know any Chinese. Then again, they had _both_ thought that her uncle hadn't known any French...

Marinette nodded in reply. "After Uncle Cheng's visit, I thought it was time that I learned some. I want to be able to talk to him in his own language, since he went to the trouble of speaking French to me. And it's something that my mother and I can do together."

Adrien smiled, ignoring the tiny throb his heart gave. His own mother had been a talented linguist; she had handled many of his father's overseas clients, back when they had worked together as business partners, besides being a married couple. He didn't begrudge Marinette's close relationship with her mother, but it made him feel more than a little wistful. "That sounds nice," he said aloud.

She nodded again. "Is there anything... I can help you with?" she asked. "I really haven't learned very much, but you helped me that time with Uncle Cheng, so if there is anything I can do-" Her eyes drifted to the Miraculous book again. It was too late for him now to hide it, she had definitely already seen it.

Still, there was no way she could know what it was, so it should be safe. Perhaps if he talked to her for a bit, it would satisfy her enough for her to leave him alone after a while. "I'm trying to translate this book from simplified-Chinese to standard characters," he explained - really, it was no less than the truth. "Simplified-Chinese is similar to standard, but still quite different. I didn't recognize many of the characters, so I came here to get a dictionary."

"I can't read simplified-Chinese either," she said, looking crestfallen. "I don't know if my mother can, I could ask-"

"N-no, thank you," he said hastily, trying to sound gracious. "My, er, my tutor assigned it as homework, so I should do it myself."

"O-oh, I see." She seemed a little disappointed; Adrien felt bad for brushing her off.

"You said you were learning?" he asked, giving her a kind smile. "How's it going?"

"Very slowly," she admitted, fiddling self-consciously with the hem of her jacket. He felt bad again; she knew he was fluent. He really wanted to tell her that there was no shame in just starting out, but she kept on talking. "I'm still just learning the basics: numbers, colours, animals, simple phrases..."

"That's a good way to start," he said, encouragingly. _Colours and animals, huh? Well, there should be no real harm in..._ "Want to see if you can read this?" He finally closed the Miraculous book, pushing his sheet of hand-written notes towards her with his other hand. "This is what I've translated so far. There are a few words here that you might already know."

She crossed over to him a little hesitantly. He hoped he hadn't put her on the spot, seeing as she was just beginning to learn. Then she glanced at the paper, and a bright smile lit up her face. "I can read this," she said.

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. Did she mean she could read _all_ of it? "That's great! Can you read what that says?"

He pointed to a pair of characters near the head of the page. She studied them intently for a second, then nodded and said: "Black cat."

He very nearly rocked backwards in his chair. Though he had been the one who asked, he wasn't quite prepared for her to say 'Chat Noir' out loud. Usually when someone was saying it, they were addressing him directly; and most often, it was his Lady, calling him by name! Though, come to think of it, he had met Marinette while in costume a few times now, and she had called him 'Chat Noir' on those occasions. That must be why it seemed so familiar when she said it now...

"T-that's right," he said, regaining his composure as quickly as he could. "Anything else you can read?"

She studied the paper again, and her smile grew. "Let's see... This says 'green turtle', and this is 'yellow bee'... I'm pretty sure that's the character for 'fox'..."

She sure did know her animals! Adrien remembered that she had claimed to like all kinds of creatures, back when Nino had invited her to the zoo (or, to be more accurate, Adrien had invited her on Nino's tongue-tied behalf). He was almost sorry he couldn't share the book of Miraculous with her. If she liked animals, and had a fascination with heroes even half as strong as her friend Alya's, she would be delighted by all the different kwami.

"B-butterfly..." Marinette went on as her eyes scanned the paper, faltering for the first time. Adrien winced inwardly. He wasn't fond of the word 'papillion' himself.

"Very good," he praised her, and she beamed at him. "How about this one?"

"Ladybug," she answered instantly, with such confidence he was momentarily taken aback. Wow, she really did know her stuff! _It was almost as if she had studied... but no,_ there was no way she could possibly know all the different kinds of Miraculous... even Alya didn't know that, and she knew more than most civilians...

He shook off the notion, instead concentrating on how happy she looked. She was proud of herself, no doubt about it; she gave him a slight smirk, apparently pleased to have risen to the challenge he had set her. He remembered how competitive she had been when they were training for the gaming tournament together. It had been awe-inspiring, and more than a little irritating, to see how casually she had flaunted her skills.

He had his own competitive streak, and it was beginning to rear its ugly head. That had to be the only explanation for it: if he had been thinking clearly, he would have had the sense not to do it. But the humility he had been forced to swallow at her hands when they had played Mecha Strike III flashed through his mind. Seeing her victorious leer, his immediate instinct was to try to wipe the smug smile off her face. It was an unfair impulse, and an ungallant one, but it entered his head before he could deter it in time.

"How about this one?" he asked, pointing to a character at the bottom of the page.

The instant he drew her attention to it, he realized his mistake. There was _no way_ she could get this one; even _he_ wasn't sure what it mean, he'd just made an educated guess. When she inevitably couldn't translate it, he'd have to admit that he didn't understand it either, laugh it off, write some more random animals down to distract her-

To his utter amazement, without so much as a hesitation, she smirked triumphantly at him, and said: "Kwami."

It took a good few seconds for the significance of what she had just said to reach them both.

Adrien felt as if he had been hit over the head and stunned with something - possibly the heavy book of Miraculous. He was temporarily incapable of doing anything other than gaping open-mouthed at her. Marinette looked proud of herself for a moment longer; then, as the full implication of what she had just said dawned on her, her expression turned horrified. She clasped her hands over her mouth, as if by doing so she could draw the words back in.

He managed to find his voice first. "Y-you know... what a kwami is...?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was exactly the wrong thing to say. _Geez,_ so much for secrecy! What would his Lady say if she knew he was talking about confidential super-hero things with a civilian like this? Even if Marinette didn't understand what he was talking about - _how could she?_ \- this was strictly off-limits. Maybe the damage could still be undone, maybe he could laugh it off, say it was a made-up word, a kind of Pokemon, some sort of lame joke-

Her reply sent him reeling all over again. "You know w-what... a kwami is too?"

They stared at each other again in bewildered silence. Then, without warning, Marinette emitted a high-pitched squeak that was only partially muffled by the hands she still had clamped over her face.

Adrien jumped, startled by the sudden squeal. He glanced around anxiously; just as he feared, people browsing the shelves nearby turned to look their way, drawn by the noise. From behind the front desk, the librarian frowned at them. He rounded on Marinette again; she was still gazing at him, looking like a statue posed as 'speak no evil'.

"L-let's go discuss this someplace else," he suggested, trying to make his urgent whisper sound calmer than he felt. He replaced the Miraculous book in his bag, piled the assorted dictionaries neatly on the desk - he felt bad for leaving them there, but at least he had tidied them a bit - snatched up the cooler-bag from beneath the desk, and took Marinette by the arm. He steered her towards the exit, smiling brightly at the librarian as he passed.

He was pretty sure he had never behaved more suspiciously in his entire life.

* * *

Beside the library was a small paved courtyard, where borrowers could take their books to read, or office workers could stop to have their lunch. It was deserted, most people having taken refuge in shaded cafes or air-conditioned cinemas. It was in the shadow of the building, at least. Adrien, mindful of Plagg's recent illness, was reluctant to take his kwami out into the heat, but he had very little choice. He needed to know how Marinette knew about kwami, and it wasn't a conversation he wanted anyone else to overhear.

He had been leading her to a bench on the other side of the courtyard. Halfway there, she suddenly wrenched herself free from his grasp, with a force that surprised him. He hastily pulled his hand away from her.

"S-sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He was acting like a total creep - he must have scared her, grabbing at her like that! "I didn't mean t-"

"How do you know?!" she interrupted him. Her tone of voice was nothing like that she had used in the library; it was suddenly sharp, commanding. A bit like the way she had spoken to him during the dreaded gum-on-seat incident. She glared at him in such a no-nonsense way, he found himself subconsciously shrinking away from her. "How do you know what a kwami is?" she asked again, staring him down interrogatively. "If you know about kwamis... do you know about Miraculous?"

Without thinking, he clamped his left hand over his right, hiding his ring from view. It was bad enough his father had examined his jewellery with minute attention; given the way this conversation was going, he really didn't want her to notice it just yet.

"Uh... I, uh..." he stammered, his mind a complete blank.

"You _do_ know!" she accused, eyes narrowing. " _How_ do you know? If that really _is_ the book - but then you must have met Master Fu!" The name sent a jolt through him, but he had no chance to acknowledge it; she wasn't done with him yet. "Did he let you have that book back? Is _that_ how you know? But if you only just started translating..."

She paused, eyes sweeping over him. He clenched his hands a little more tightly in front of him, hoping she wouldn't ask to see what was inside the cooler-bag dangling from his arm.

"Are you... a Miraculous-wielder?" she finally asked him. Not waiting for an answer, she rushed on, as if she was thinking out loud. "But which one would you be? I _know_ you don't have the turtle kwami; and the peacock is out, since you're allergic to feathers. The fox kwami...? But then you wouldn't have fallen for Lila's tricks. The bee is possible-" her eyes flickered over him again "-but I don't see a comb in your hair..."

She stopped, having reached an impasse, going back to scrutinizing him in apprehensive silence. Adrien felt more than a little dazed. She had just named every single kwami in the book! Well, _almost_ every kwami. If she had accused him of being the wielder of all those different Miraculous, that meant none of them were hers, and he _knew_ she didn't have the cat-kwami; which only left...

His own eyes were drawn to her earlobes, and he caught his breath. A slow smile gradual formed upon his face; he quickly tried to smother it, seeing her scowl at him.

"There are still a few other kwami left," he said, boldly summoning up his voice. If his suspicions were correct, he _very much_ liked where this was going. "You haven't asked me yet if I'm Papillion."

Her reaction was instantaneous: her eyebrows shot up, her posture went rigidly straight, and she took a defensive step back. Her voice was tight with anger when she spoke. "That's not something to joke about," she all but growled at him.

He chuckled. He couldn't help it. That was so _her,_ it was really _her_ , how had he never _seen_ -

He wished he'd had this conversation with her long ago.

He spread his hands apologetically. "I'm sorry," he said, putting as much sincerity into his words as he could. "You're right, it's nothing to joke about. You'll be relieved to know that I'm not Papillion." He pointed to the collar of his shirt and the absence of a butterfly-shaped pin there, hoping she would notice the silver ring on his finger - just like he had noticed the earrings that she wore. _All this time, she had been sitting in class behind him, she had been so close-_

"You also haven't asked me if I'm Ladybug," he went on, speaking the name - _her name_ \- with relish. "But perhaps that's because you already know that I'm not... because you know perfectly well who she is..."

He saw her blanch, saw her expression swiftly change from anger to fear, and felt a stab of guilt. Giving her his friendliest, most charming, devastatingly Chat-like smile, he held up his right hand so it was plainly in her line of sight.

"I think I now know who she is, too... don't I, Buginette?"

His words elicited no response for a minute or so. She was staring at him again, and he didn't blame her. He saw her keen blue eyes dart from his face to his hair to his finger to his eyes to his ring again, then back to his face. She frowned in concentration, evidently struggling to recognize him; then her expression went completely slack, registering nothing but shock.

"...Chat Noir...?" she asked him, very slowly.

He started to laugh again. He knew he shouldn't - she might find it disrespectful - but he couldn't help it. "I nearly fell off my chair when you said those words before," he admitted. "Now I know why." He smiled fondly at her, all the tenderness he had for his partner transferring without difficulty to her. To Marinette, _this girl, this brave, smart, wonderful girl, who was-_

"Good to finally meet you out of uniform, my Lady," he said, lowering his hand to sweep it aside in his customary bow.

She still stared at him. Her own hand went to her forehead; her bangs, pushed aside by the gesture, shifted to reveal a stud earring winking at her earlobe.

"Oh my gosh," she muttered, sounding dazed. This only made him laugh again - nervously, since his Lady was right in front of him and he had no idea what she thought of who he was; and with relief, because he knew who she was at last, and he was so, _so_ happy.

"Plagg?" asked a feminine voice, somewhere around the level of Marinette's hip.

Adrien gave a start, realizing that it hadn't been her. A red kwami poked its head out of her purse. It eyed Adrien up and down, then focused on the cooler-bag, understanding in its large black eyes. "Is Plagg in th-"

"Tikki?" the cat-kwami replied, phasing half-out the side of his cooler-bag. "Hey, Bug-breath, long time no see!"

"Oh, Plagg-!"

A red blur zipped across the space between them. The ladybug-kwami plucked Plagg out of the bag, danced a few dizzy mid-air twirls with him, then paused to hug him fiercely.

"I've been so worried about you!" she squeaked, clinging to him.

"Hey, you're smothering me!" Plagg complained, but he sounded pleased. "It's too warm to be carrying on like-"

"I _knew_ this weather would be bad for you!" Tikki declared, clutching at him again. She backed off to look him over appraisingly. "How have you been? It's been so hot lately, I was so worried that you'd-"

"I almost was," Plagg admitted with a purr, obviously lapping up the attention. "But my kid took good care of me." He nodded vaguely in Adrien's direction; the boy tried to recall if this was the first time Plagg had ever actually complimented him. If so, he definitely wanted Tikki around more often. "Master Fu fixed me up no problem," Plagg went on, "and I-"

"Master Fu...?"

Adrien and both kwamis all turned to look at Marinette, who had repeated Plagg's words in a dazed-sounding voice. As Adrien watched, those blue eyes, which had been dimmed by shock, slowly rekindled their spark. Her gaze focused on him.

"That's how you got the book," she said. It was a statement, not a question. There was a Ladybug-like assurance to her that had him kicking himself for not recognizing her before now. He made himself focus on her words instead of the fact that she was so obviously his Lady, _that he had seen her every day in class, yet never even realized-!_

"You know Master Fu?" he asked. He felt like he shouldn't be surprised by anything anymore; this day was fast becoming downright bizarre, in a very _good_ way.

She nodded. "Yes. Tikki - my kwami - got sick during the bad weather last month. Right when Princess Fragrance was-"

Adrien's mind raced back almost a month. "So that's why you were-"

A lot of things about that battle still weren't clear to him. According to Plagg's report afterwards, he'd been possessed by the akuma (again) and Ladybug had had to save him, to his utter mortification. But he didn't remember seeing her at all during that incident; she hadn't turned up like she normally did-

"Yeah," Marinette said. She squirmed uncomfortably at some memory - of _what_ he had no idea, wasn't sure he wanted to know - and suddenly morphed from Ladybug back into Marinette. The swift transition fascinated him - did he also switch in and out of Chat Noir mode like that? "I had to take Tikki to Master Fu and get her healed before I could transform," she explained. She petted the kwami, who snuggled affectionately against her palm in response. "So you had to do the same with... er, Plagg?"

"Yeah." Adrien grabbed hold of the kwami's tail to stop him from ducking back inside his bag to eat cheese. At long last, he and his Lady were having a proper conversation; Plagg would stay and be sociable, even if he had to pinch him by the ear to keep him there. "So he did the same for you and... Tikki?" he asked, eyes going to the adorable little red sprite, who smiled a thanks up at him for the acknowledgement. "He did that weird ritual with the-"

"-the gong?" Marinette finished for him, a smirk once again on her lips.

Adrien was pretty sure his Cheshire-cat grin exceeded the sides of his face. It was _so good_ to be able to talk about these things with someone who understood, who was in the same situation, to actually speak properly with _her_ at long last-

Marinette chuckled. "I thought it was just for show, but it seems to actually work! He wouldn't tell me how though, which is a shame, because I'd love to learn. He wouldn't tell me a lot of things, actually," she added, with an exasperated huff. "I didn't even know at the time that he was the Grand Guardian, and he-"

"He's _what_?!" Adrien yelped, jolted out of his starry-eyed ardour by her words.

"Yeah, he's the one who chose us and gave us our..." Marinette began to say, then stopped. "You didn't know?"

"No, he-" Adrien turned on his kwami, who he still held by the tail. Plagg very much looked like he wanted to phase out of his grip, but didn't quite dare. "You didn't tell me that!"

"It wasn't relevant," Plagg argued, in a whinging tone that sounded in no way remorseful. "I was _sick_ , I thought _I_ was your primary concern, not some Miraculous-holder with a courtesy title who just happens to-"

"He's a _Miraculous wielder?!"_

Tikki shook her head, a wry smile on her tiny face. "You haven't changed a bit, Plagg," she said, with a meaningful sigh.

Marinette giggled. "Someone neglected to tell me that as well - though circumstances may excuse her." She shot her kwami a teasing look. "Speaking of which, uh... A-Adrien, I have to tell you..."

Adrien had been engaged in a tug-o-war with Plagg over the cooler-bag. At her words he looked up, letting Plagg dart for cover inside his cheese-filled sanctuary.

"What is it?" he asked. Whatever it was, it must be important - her eyes were downcast, and she shuffled her feet nervously.

"I have to apologize," she said, biting her lip as she eyed him warily. He wanted to say that he could never be mad at her - not when she made _that_ kind of face at him - but decided he'd better hear her out first. "I'm sorry, I... er, I k-kind of stole that book from you..."

That hadn't been at all what he was expecting; it took him a moment to get his head around what she had just said.

"Stole?" He repeated. He pulled the book out of his bag, looking at it carefully. "So this is my...?" He stared at it, looking for some point of recognition. Had the corner of his father's copy been as dog-eared as that? He honestly couldn't remember... but if it _had_ , it meant that-

"Not because I really wanted to," she hastily added, with a frantic gesture of her hands which was _so_ Marinette. "Um, technically, Lila stole it first, and-"

"Lila did-!" Adrien's mind was reeling. He was starting to wonder if this whole incident was one big joke; perhaps Papillion had created an akuma that liked to trick people with very plausible, convoluted pranks...

"Um, yeah." Marinette fiddled nervously with her sleeve. "I, uh, saw you in the library with her, looking at the book. After she claimed to you that she was Volpina, she managed to sneak it out of your bag. I think she took it so she could go get a store-bought necklace that looked like the fox-Miraculous. When you went to meet her in the park, she had to hide it from you, so she, um... she dumped it in the trash-"

"The trash-!" Adrien echoed her yet again, more out of instinct than anything else. He was just about done being surprised, what with everything else he had just learned.

Marinette dug at the gap between two paving-stones with her toes. "I saw her do it and rescued it from the trash can. I wanted to give it back to you but, uh..."

"That was my fault." Tikki floated up to hover in front of Adrien face, rubbing her paws together apologetically. "Marinette wanted to return the book to you, but I thought it was a higher priority to take it to Master Fu. As the Grand Guardian, he is the rightful owner of the book. It went missing from his care a long time ago, and it was imperative that he should have it back. Marinette didn't want to do it - she knew you would miss it - but I convinced her, and... I'm really sorry, Adrien."

Her antennae drooped adorably. Adrien couldn't help but smile, even though he still felt like he'd been duped. "That's okay, Tikki," he said, gently patting the kwami's head, much the same way he would sometimes ruffle Plagg's ears. "I understand why you did it, and I'm kind of glad you did." Tikki, looking relieved, floated back to Marinette's side. "It's just..." Adrien paused, heaving a sigh. "I can't believe all of this went on without me noticing!"

A dark chuckle issued from the opening of the cooler-bag. "You're even more clueless than I thought," Plagg drawled maliciously from within.

Adrien frowned down at him. "You were there too, and you were just as clueless - or did you keep all this from me? If you did, I don't think you deserve that expensive cheese I just-"

Plagg whipped into view, looking outraged. "Hey, as if I pay that much attention to everything you do! I have better things t-"

"Plagg is only alert where cheese is involved," Tikki stated, with a knowing smile.

"Why shouldn't I be? It's only the greatest, tastiest, most delic-"

"Yeah, yeah, we know," Adrien muttered, poking Plagg's head back inside the bag. He turned to Marinette, who had been watching all this with an amused look upon her face. "So, my Lady... what should we do now?"

She blinked at him in surprise - because he had called her by his pet-name for her, or because of his question, he wasn't sure. "I guess," she said, after a moment's consideration, "we should go and see Master Fu. There's a lot I still don't understand, and you probably have plenty of questions for him as well. We've been fighting akuma for some time now, without fully knowing what's been going on. I think we could do with a few answers from him."

He nodded. Trust her to come up with a perfect course of action, as always! "Good plan."

She looked at him carefully, as if she were making some sort of decision. "Before that, though," she said, somewhat haltingly, "we should, uh... probably talk, j-just the two of us." She took a deep breath. "I, um, wasn't expecting... I mean, I had no idea you- er, it's not bad or anything, though I'm probably not exactly what you- er, y-you must have expected someone more- that is, I guess I-" She stopped, rubbing her head. He realized that she must be just as amazed and bewildered by everything as he was. "We should... probably talk about it," she finished, giving him a tiny, uncertain smile.

He slowly nodded. "Yeah, you're right. This is all a pretty big surprise to me, too. N-not an _unpleasant_ surprise or anything, just..." He suddenly smiled radiantly at her, taking it in: this was his Lady, it was _her_!

"I'm so glad to finally know... and to find out that it's you, Marinette. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather it to be."

He was rewarded for his words with the sight of her blushing furiously. He couldn't help but chuckle happily to himself, though he felt kind of bad for flustering her. Who would've thought that his brave, bold, brilliant Ladybug could stutter and flush just like Marinette? This day was full of surprises; and so far, none of them were bad in any way...

He took a step towards the bench, beckoning her to follow. "Have a seat, my Lady. I'd like to sort some things out before we go to see the Grand Guardian."

Still looking faintly flushed - and not just from the heat - she nodded in agreement, scurrying after him.

* * *

On occasion, Marinette had wondered just how much of Chat was his suit.

She knew she herself went through more than just a costume change when she transformed. She knew he must also be a bit different from his civilian self somehow, but... his suit-granted characteristics seemed a bit different from hers. Though she had taken the moniker of Ladybug and made it her own, she liked to think that she didn't have any insect-like tendencies whatsoever: she didn't have wings, didn't hang around in flower beds, was never even remotely tempted to snack on some juicy aphids (neither was Tikki, much to her relief). Whereas Chat... while she had never seen him try to catch a bird (for obvious reasons) or hiss at dogs (though it wouldn't really surprise her), he still seemed rather... chat-like. He wore a bell, occasionally ran on all-fours, often swiped at the air like a cat sharpening its claws, was infuriatingly needy and almost desperately affectionate whenever she was around-

 _Okay, she wasn't quite ready to consider the implications of that yet._

If you had asked her that morning if Adrien Agreste was in any way cat-like, she would have laughed. Or rambled about how he had a cat-like grace and feline majesty, a pair of bewitching emerald-green eyes that would put even the most regal moggie to shame...

But _this_ kind of cat-like? Not in a million years.

She was beginning to understand why most cat-owners never bothered to take their pet for walks. Adrien might not be dressed as Chat Noir right now, but he was wearing a cat's capriciousness as if it were tailor-made for him. All the way to Master Fu's, he kept wandering away from her, ducking down alleyways, sauntering round corners, racing over to peer at shop displays. At one point, she turned to find him strolling down an adjacent street, following the soft strains of piano-music that drifted from an upstairs window. Really, if she could use her lucky charm right now to give her a collar and leash-

 _Nope, those were dangerous thoughts, back away quickly Marinette..._

Pressing her clammy palms to her face in an attempt to cool down the heat of her blush, she jogged after him, seizing him by the back of his shirt.

"This way, Minou," she said, adopting a teasing manner to distract herself from the fact that she was _very nearly touching Adrien Agreste_. "If you keep wandering off like that, you'll get _me_ lost, and I know these laneways like the back of my hand."

His unrepentant smile as he turned towards her threatened to immediately undo her exasperation, taking the strength in her knees with it. "Sorry," he said, with a sheepish grin. "I hadn't been to this part of town before this morning, and it looks so interesting, I just wanted to see t-" He suddenly stopped, smiled even more broadly, and pointed at a nearby shop-display with a laugh.

"Look, it's an old friend!" he chortled, pointing at a fox-fur stole that was draped over a steamer-trunk in the window of an antique store.

Marinette chuckled, though the sound was uneasy. Much as she had considered skinning Lila a few times during the Volpina incident, she wasn't exactly proud of her actions that day.

Adrien was obviously thinking about Volpina as well. "That's why you totally ripped into her like that!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, as if he had only just seen the light. "Wow, everything makes so much sense now!"

"Not quite everything," Marinette countered, looking shamefacedly down at the pavement. "You were right, Adrien, I was way too harsh on her. I'm so glad you were willing to call me out on it; I wish you'd done it before I had a chance to let fly. If I hadn't said those things to her, she might not h-"

"On the contrary," Adrien interjected, "if I'd known she stole my book, I would've agreed that she deserved everything you dished out to her."

This drew Marinette up short. She supposed he was only saying it to make her feel better about how childish she had been. Still...

"I stole your book as well," she pointed out, wondering if he was at all mad at her for sneaking around behind his back. _If he ever found out that she had also taken his phone..._

"You didn't really steal it," he said, giving her shoulder a consoling pat that threatened to make her already-treacherous knees buckle completely. "And neither did Tikki," he added, giving her purse a considerate look; it twitched slightly in reply. "I probably would've shown it to you anyway, if I'd had the chance to bring it to our next patrol. And I would've given it to Master Fu willingly, if I'd known what was going on. Besides, I already-"

He stopped abruptly, both his feet and his words. Marinette, who had started to walk on without him, hastily turned back, frowning at him in concern.

"What's wrong?" she asked. She knew him - _both of him_ \- enough to recognize that he was troubled by something. The expression he wore right now stabbed at her heart, even if she had no idea what was causing it.

"Huh?" He looked up at her in surprise, giving her a slow blink which was so very Chat-like, she kicked herself for not recognizing him sooner. To think she had adored him so completely, had known him so well both in and out of the mask, yet never noticed the similarities... _some love-struck stalker she was..._

Putting aside her rights to this dubious title for now, she said: "If you had cat-ears right now, they'd be drooping, Chaton. What's bothering you? You know you can tell me about it, if you want to..."

He looked at her as if she had just offered him the entire world. He hesitated, pursed his lips in a way that would have had women of all ages screaming in rapture, then lifted his gaze to hers. "I stole the book, too... from my... f-from my father..."

Marinette stared at him blankly. "From your father...?" she repeated. She was a fan of Gabriel Agreste, the designer - not so much Gabriel the father, but that was beside the point. Why on earth would her fashion idol have a book on Miraculous?

"Yeah. I looked in his office the morning of Volpina, and he had a wall-safe open that I didn't even know about, hidden behind a painting of- uh, and he keeping it in there. I caught a glimpse of the illustrations, and I didn't really want to take it behind his back, but Plagg-" the cooler-bag harrumphed at him, unimpressed by being saddled with the blame, even if it was wholly justified - "he opened the safe before I could stop him, so I just took it, and then it disappeared while I was at school. I guess I know now how that happened, but it still doesn't explain..."

He looked at her, a timid hopefulness in his gaze. It struck her then just how devoted he - _her Chaton_ \- was to her, how meekly he looked to her for answers, even in this.

"Why would he have it?" he asked, speaking to himself as much as her. "I've been asking myself over and over, and I still have no idea. You don't think he... that he could be involved in..."

"I don't think so," Marinette said, slowly. "Perhaps we could ask Master Fu? Unless you'd rather not mention it..."

Adrien sighed. "I don't know what to think. You saw how he was when we rescued him from Jackady. He wasn't exactly thrilled to meet us, so I doubt he's a fan like Alya is." Marinette couldn't help but giggle at the idea; Adrien smiled bravely at her.

"Perhaps," Marinette suggested, "he just likes it for the pictures? I mean, he designs clothes, and the book has illustrations of some pretty impressive costumes. Perhaps he just had it for inspiration?" She herself had a number of books like that; she always requested heaps of expensive art books as birthday and Christmas presents from her parents, knowing her allowance didn't stretch nearly far enough to fill her shelves as much as she'd like. "He might be about to launch a new Miraculous-inspired line - in which case, you'll be modelling the Chat Noir ensembles for sure."

He looked amused at the idea. "I reckon I would wear it well," he claimed, putting his hands on his hips and turning his head to best catch the slant of the afternoon sun in such an effortlessly-perfect model pose, Marinette had to remind herself to breathe normally.

"Just hope he doesn't assign you the peacock outfits," she said, putting as much breezy humour into her voice as she could with a heart that was still hammering wildly.

"Ha ha," he muttered, wincing at the thought. "The only other possibility," he went on, tapping his chin as he frowned in contemplation, "is that my father is actually... the real Volpina!"

There was a dramatic pause; then they both doubled up with laughter.

"I-I think the bee is more likely," Marinette gasped, clinging to a nearby lamppost for support as she blinked tears of laughter from her eyes. "Doesn't he wear that stripy tie?"

Adrien laughed just as long and loud as she did, to her immense relief; he leaned weakly against a nearby wall, clutching his sides. "I'm not sure if I can bee-lieve that theory!" he declared, with that familiar smirk she always saw on Chat Noir's face when he delivered a quip he was particularly proud of.

She chuckled, shaking her head to herself. Under normal circumstances, she would have just rolled her eyes and scoffed at such a terrible Chat-joke. But having it come from Adrien, and seeing how happy it made him...

It was a day of drastic change - and she much preferred things like this. If only she hadn't enforced that silly rule about not revealing their identities to anyone - they should have told each other who they were ages ago!

As they finally began making their way towards Master Fu's again, she couldn't shake a persistent worry from the back of her mind. Based on what Adrien had just told her, more people had seen the Miraculous book than she had realized: herself, him, Master Fu, Lila, and now Gabriel Agreste. Where the book had been before it had wound up in the latter's possession, they couldn't possibly tell - they could hardly just ask him where he had gotten it, not after Adrien had stolen it from him - but... what if other eyes had seen it besides those? What if...

 _What if Papillion had read it?_

Marinette tried to push the thought aside, glancing at Adrien beside her. It wasn't too difficult, as she watched how the harsh sunlight turned the tips of his hair into a blazing aureole of gold; how the shadows falling across his face only deepened the mysterious green glint of his eyes. She also noticed that his hand clutched the strap of his satchel, inside which the Miraculous book safely resided; he had seldom let go of it since they had left the library.

She smiled to herself, trying to banish any doubts with a good dose of Ladybug-confidence. Whatever else had happened up til now, the knowledge in the book belonged to them. Whatever was coming, they would be best-equipped as they possibly could be, and they would face it together, with Master Fu to guide them.

* * *

They reached the familiar building and took the stairs up to the second floor. Marinette knocked on the door. She wasn't surprised when there was no answer; she reached for the doorknob anyway, though Adrien hung back.

"He's probably just meditating," she said, beckoning him forward. "He knows we're coming. I sent him a text saying that you would be with me, and to let him know that I didn't get the books he wanted from the library."

Adrien blinked at her, then smiled. As always, she was one step ahead of him - or at least, she _was,_ until she reached out and took his hand, pulling him up alongside her. She pulled open the door, and they stepped into the room together.

Master Fu was sitting cross-legged at the centre of the mat, his eyes closed, head slightly bowed. They waited in silence until he opened his eyes, swept a glance over them, and smiled.

"Welcome back, Ladybug," he said, nodding in Marinette's direction. "I am sorry to impose upon your generosity by having you run my errands for me; I'm an old man, and you have so much more energy than I do. I'm afraid I will have to ask you to get those books for me next time you're at the library."

Marinette made no reply, only gave him a grin that was half rueful, half affectionate. His gaze switched to Adrien.

"And welcome to you, Chat Noir. It is good that we can finally meet - besides administering to your sick bird."

At his words, Plagg zipped out of Adrien's pocket; Tikki floated out of the purse to hover alongside him. They beamed at Fu like a pair of kids who had just come home from a successful first day at school, their paws linked between them.

Marinette glanced at Adrien and raised an eyebrow that eloquently asked: _Bird?_

Adrien grinned and shrugged, making a silent promise to explain it to her later. She already had a pretty good idea of what it meant; she would have to tell him the story of her own sick 'cat' as well.

Turning his attention solely on Master Fu, Adrien clasped his left hand over his right, giving the old man a low bow.

"It is an honour to see you again," he said, speaking in French for Marinette's sake. "I look forward to learning as much as I can from you, Sifu."

* * *

 _Author's note: holy fricking hell, how did this chapter end up so long?! The word-count isn't that much higher than the longest chapter preceding this, but somehow, my Word document ended up 26 pages long! I'm totally blaming it on Master Fu, I didn't really need to write Adrien's trip to the healer in as much detail as I did, but I was having way too much fun with it!_

 _This story allowed me to indulge in the two of the most important aspects of who I am: Chinese and libraries. The majority of my immediate family either work or have worked at libraries; anyone who has read my long-format Miraculous fic, 'A Class Act', knows how much I enjoy writing about library-related things._

 _I've mentioned it elsewhere before, but Marinette's background is one of my favourite details of the show, for all it plays a very small role in the larger plot. I'm half-Chinese myself, and Marinette's depiction very realistically portrays what it's like to be mixed-race, caught between cultures with only a diluted understanding of where your heritage comes from - her pain at not knowing how to speak Chinese is my pain! I got to throw almost everything I knew about my culture in here: the classic novels, the bowing etiquette, getting to use the word 'sifu' as much as possible. I've actually really done what Adrien did and bought a book in simplified-Chinese when I was trying to order a novel to give my dad for his birthday - I didn't know that simplified-Chinese was a thing until then!_ _I do know that the writing in the Miraculous book isn't remotely like simplified-Chinese (according to Miraculous Wikia, it's actually written in Nyctographic) but I took the liberty with it for the sake of this story, I hope no one minds._

 _Thanks GuardianAngel1234567 for suggesting this object, it was already on my list of possibilities, so I bumped it up my schedule. Before anyone asks, I'm afraid I don't really take suggestions otherwise. I've already started writing the next chapter, but after this unexpected epic, I'm in the mood for something short and sweet (if I can even manage that), so I might take a slight detour, I haven't decided yet. I keep coming up with ideas for new objects, so there are always plenty of options. Please stay tuned for whatever comes next! ~ W.J._


	7. Autograph (Part One)

**Chapter Seven: Autograph (Part One)**

 _While protecting Adrien from Jackady, Ladybug notices a signed Jagged Stone CD on his desk; but the autograph isn't made out to Adrien..._

* * *

"You have her smile."

As they gazed at the beautiful woman on the monitor screen, Ladybug and Adrien said the exact same thing at the exact same time. They both gave a start, stared at each other in silent wonderment, and then hastily looked the other way.

Ladybug's first thought was that she couldn't believe Adrien would say something so nice about _her_. Her second thought was that she couldn't believe she had just said something like that about _him_. She smiled, raising a self-conscious hand to her cheek, where a blush the same colour as her suit was rapidly blooming. If she hadn't averted her gaze, she would have seen Adrien doing the exact same thing.

An embarrassed silence stretched between them. Usually, Ladybug was nothing if not self-assured; but at the moment, dithering Marinette seemed to have taken over. Her mind flailed frantically, trying to find something to say after _that_. Her keen blue eyes roved haphazardly around the room, looking for something - _anything_ \- she could make small-talk about. Should she compliment his choice of bed-sheets? Ask which gaming console he liked best? Challenge him to a race up his rock-climbing wall? _Come on,_ he was going to think she was bored - or worse, _boring_ \- if she didn't speak up soon!

She spied a stack of CD's on the desk near her elbow. Music - that should be a safe topic! Especially since the top-most album was one that she immediately recognized; in fact, she knew it very, _very_ well...

"Uh, I s-see you're a fan of Jagged Stone!" She heaved an inward sigh of relief when she managed to get the words out coherently. Picking up the copy of 'Rock Giant' in what she hoped looked like a casual gesture, she noticed that the cover was signed.

"Oh, y-yeah, I am." Adrien sounded relieved that she had broken the silence. "He's my favourite artist."

"Mine too!" Ladybug momentarily forgot that she was a costume-clad super-heroine; she was simply thrilled to have found something she had in common with her crush. The smile Adrien gave her in answer made her feel as if she were lighter than air - she suspected she could have soared up to the (very high) ceiling without aid of her yoyo if she tried!

"Really? That must have made it difficult to fight him as an akuma," he adroitly observed.

"No kidding!" Ladybug smiled wryly at the memory. Out of all the unlikely things she'd done since becoming a superhero, battling her much-loved rock idol atop the Eiffel Tower was prime candidate for most-surreal. "The ten-foot purple dragon certainly didn't help, either."

"Ha, I can imagine!"

They both laughed. Marinette was pretty sure this was the best day of her life - she had seldom spoken to Adrien as easily as she was doing right now. If she had known changing into Ladybug was all it took, she would have done it ages ago!

"Unfortunately, I didn't have time while de-evilizing him to ask for a signed CD," she said, examining the disc in her hand. She suddenly froze, stunned by what she saw. She had been expecting to see the same autograph that was on her own CD - Jagged had signed it for her, as soon as the first proof-copy featuring her artwork had arrived from the record company. However, looking closer, she saw that this wasn't Jagged Stone's autograph - though she _definitely_ recognized it!

Adrien took her surprise for curiosity. "I got the artist who designed the cover to sign it for me," he said, as she stared in amazement at the ' _Marinette_ ' emblazoned across the image in bold black marker. "She's a school friend of mine. Talented, isn't she?"

Listening to him in a dream-like state, Ladybug barely registered that this last statement had been a question. "Y-yes!" she said, in a voice that was pitched just a little bit higher than normal. _Adrien had kept her signature!_ As if his compliment of her smile hadn't been enough - any second now, she was going to start circling the light-fittings in pure delight!

She shakily put the disc back, hoping she could manage before she dropped it and spoiled the moment. Setting it down without incident, she noticed another Jagged Stone album - an earlier one - just beneath it in the stack. This one was also autographed, and not by her this time. She picked it up and examined it in turn. There was even a dedication-

She gasped out loud as the angular scrawl deciphered itself before her disbelieving eyes. Adrien, about to make some sort of pleasantry to her, stopped short when he noticed what she held in her hand.

The autograph read: _To_ _C. N., the most rockin' cat in Paris! - Jagged Stone_

Ladybug stared at it uncomprehendingly. That was undoubtedly what it said, but... _C.N.-? Rockin' cat-?_ That sounded like... like it was written to...

 _"Jagged, can I have an autograph?"_

The aftermath of Guitar Villain's rampage replayed itself in her mind. Her partner had sidled up to the freshly un-akumatized rock-star, bobbing excitedly on the spot. At the time, she had wondered how he just happened to be carrying a CD on him; had he _really_ kept it in the pocket of his cat-suit all along, just in case the chance for an autograph came up? Mr Stone had obliged - it was the least he could do, really, after they had freed him and Fang from Papillion's control. Ladybug hadn't actually seen what he had written for Chat Noir. She had been too busy thinking about her unfinished design, getting ready to rush back home, steeling herself for the all-nighter she'd have to pull in order to get it done in time...

 _This must be that signed CD... but why in the world did_ Adrien _have-_

"Uh, I, um..." the boy in question mumbled, rubbing uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He seemed to be casting about for an explanation. "That is-"

He was interrupted by a heavy pounding on the door to his room. A moment later, it burst open in a shower of splintered wood, admitting several of Jackady's hypnotized soldiers. Ladybug instantly snapped back to herself - if anything could make her pull it together, it was a threat to Adrien! She grabbed him by the arm and half-dragged him to the bathroom, slinging him down on the tiles a little more roughly than she intended. She couldn't afford to be gentle right now, not with a rabid mob rapidly closing in on him!

"Stay here!" she told him, bracing herself to barricade the door.

"Wait-!" Adrien sat staring up at her from the floor for a split-second; then he rolled back onto his feet with surprising agility. She would have been impressed by his athletic prowess, if she hadn't been so worried about him.

"Get back!" she tersely commanded him. A possessed citizen darted forward, trying to push past her to get at him. She shoved the man firmly in the chest, sending him reeling. _Whoops_ , she hadn't meant to lash out as hard as that! Hopefully her Lucky Charm would take care of a few bruises later on! She went to slam the bathroom door, but it stayed firmly in place. She was glad she looked around and noticed that Adrien was holding it open - the last thing she wanted was to accidentally break his arm, Lucky Charm or no!

"Let me help you," he said as he planted himself in the doorway beside her, appraising the approaching zombies with a determined gaze. "I can-"

"It's too dangerous!" she interrupted, in an abrupt tone that betrayed her anxiety. Much as she was impressed by the chivalry he was showing, this wasn't the time for needless gallantry - his life was at risk! "Just get back, let me handle-"

"Watch out!"

While she had been focused on him, one of their assailants dove at her. She didn't have time to dodge out of the way - and wouldn't have done, not while she was shielding _him_.

Luckily for her, years of fencing had apparently given Adrien very fast reflexes. She wore her yoyo slung at her hip; he quickly grabbed the string looped around her waist and pulled her backward into the bathroom, managing to kick the door shut in the same motion. He let go of her to turn the lock. The door shuddered as fists railed upon it, but it held firm.

Caught wrong-footed, Ladybug grabbed the edge of the sink to keep herself from falling. She recovered quickly, shooting him an exasperated glare.

"What the _hell_ was _that_?!"

He flinched as she suddenly turned on him. Okay, she hadn't meant to yell quite so shrilly; but he had just about given her a heart-attack! If he expected her to _compliment_ him for that, he had another thing coming! "I _told_ you to let me handle it! Now we're _both_ trapped in here!"

This last statement wasn't entirely true; out of the corner of her eye, she spied a swathe of sunlight coming in through the wide-open window. If Mr Agreste had lowered the mansion's defences, maybe she could go out that way and come back in through the bedroom. "Just stay here for a while, okay?" she told him, unhooking her weapon. "It'll be safe to come out soon." She twirled her yoyo as she crossed over to the window and paused with one foot braced against the sill, ready to snag the guttering overhead and swing out-

"Wait a minute!" Adrien rushed forward and seized her free arm. She faltered; her yoyo lost momentum, dropping to the floor with a clatter. "I can help you! Just let me t-"

"No," she firmly interposed, "you can help me best by staying here and keeping out of sight." In her perfect mental portrait of Adrien, she hadn't allowed for this very _masculine_ streak of stubbornness. While the way he balled his fists and glared at her might have been swoon-worthy at any other time, it was _not_ attractive right now. Okay, that was an outright lie, it was unbelievably _adorable_ ; but now wasn't the time to appreciate it. She had a job to do, and he couldn't seem to get that through his gorgeous head.

"But I can-" he began.

"No, you can't-" she cut him off, and was cut off in turn.

"But I could-"

"No, you should-"

"If you'll just let me-"

" _Adrien_!"

They both winced as her shout echoed around the confined space. Much as she loved Adrien - and did she _ever_ love Adrien! - he was starting to try her patience. It was very flattering that he was so protective of her, but it really wasn't doing her any favours right now. While she wasted time arguing with him, other concerns tugged on opposing corners of her mind. She had no idea where Chat Noir was, and his absence was starting to worry her. Had the rush of intruders at the front gate overwhelmed him? The possibility that Jackady could be handing his Miraculous over to Papillion right now sent a chill down her spine.

There was also Nino, Nathalie, and Mr Agreste to consider. At the thought of Gabriel Agreste, she bit back a grimace. She had thought that Adrien was far more reasonable than his father, but just like the older Agreste, he was refusing to let her help him!

"It isn't safe for you out there," she said, in a slightly more reasonable tone. "I can take care of myself, so much as I appreciate it, there's no need for you to worry about me. Now stop arguing, stop slowing me down, and _stay! put_!"

"But you can't go out there alone," he protested. The concern in those smoldering green eyes made her feel slightly less annoyed with him - _very_ slightly. "There's too many of them, and y-"

"I have Chat Noir to help me," she assured him, "so don't wor-"

"That's what I'm _trying to tell you_!" he snapped back at her.

Startled by his sudden outburst, she wheeled around, not understanding his words. Now that he had her full attention, he was suddenly avoiding her gaze. He stared resolutely at the tiles beneath his feet for several long seconds, then chanced a glance at her from under his fringe, giving a heavy sigh.

"You saw what was written on the CD, you must have realized..." He raised his head, grinning half-heartedly at her. "The cat's practically out of the bag, huh?"

 _Huh...?_ Ladybug blinked at him in surprise. First he had a CD signed to 'C.N.', and now he was... making cat-themed jokes? _What in the-_

He sighed again, frowning distractedly at a nearby towel-rack. "My father won't help himself, and I'm no use to you here, hiding in a bathroom. I've been meaning to tell you anyway..." He trailed off, opening his shirt to reveal a hidden inner pocket. A dark object tucked inside it made it bulge.

"Plagg, transform me," he said, in a flat tone.

Something small and black emerged from the fabric. It struggled away from him for a moment, resisting some invisible force that seemed to be pulling it towards his right hand-

For the first time, she noticed the ring on his finger.

"A bit of warning would've been n-" the black thing managed to say, before it skittered in the direction of the silver ring, disappearing from view. An instant later, Adrien was engulfed by a brilliant burst of light. The green glow rippled across the reflective surfaces of the bathroom, turning it into a kaleidoscope of glittering emerald facets.

When the glare dimmed and faded, Chat Noir stood exactly where Adrien had just been.

He shuffled nervously on the spot, still not quite looking at her. He seemed so out-of-place, standing there in head-to-toe black before the spotless white vanity, steel-capped boots heavy upon the slick tiled floor, the tip of his tail just barely brushing the side of the bathtub as it twitched back and forth.

Ladybug stared at him. If she had bothered to glance at the mirror over his shoulder, she would have seen that her mouth hung open unbecomingly and her eyes were bugging out, in an expression better-suited to the wielder of a goldfish-Miraculous. She didn't notice; her eyes were riveted on the familiar figure in front of her.

He fidgeted nervously beneath her gaze. When nearly a minute had passed and she still hadn't said anything - nor closed her mouth - he seemed to take it upon himself to break the silence. He crossed his ankles, leaning against the rim of the bath as nonchalantly as he could manage. The only outward sign of his unease was the nervous swish of his tail, and the slight tremor about his smile.

"So," he said, in a tone that attempted to be breezy, "you come here often?"

Apparently, his jokes were the superhero equivalent of smelling-salts. Ladybug spluttered, blinked rapidly, and stood a little straighter.

"Really?" she asked, settling on exasperation; it was familiar, unlike the boy standing in front of her. No, scratch that, he was _too_ familiar, he was not one but _two_ boys that she knew very well, _he was_ \- "That's the best you can come up with?"

He grinned sheepishly, scuffing at a grouting with the toe of his boot. "Uh, yeah. I'm not much for coming up with witticisms after _that_."

 _That._ Right. _That_ was a thing. She should probably acknowledge _that_ , even though her brain was surely short-circuiting, even though she was almost certain that the last two minutes had all been a figment of her imagination, even though what she had just seen was not... it wasn't possible, there was _no way_ -

"C-Chat Noir?" she asked, hesitantly. _Why was she stuttering, she only usually stuttered around-_ "Y-you... y-you're _Adrien_...?"

"Heh, uh, y-yeah..." He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes had skittered away from her; now their gaze fell upon her again, and she gave a small gasp. Those eyes, that shade of green- sure, the mask changed them, she had always assumed that his visor altered their true colour, but... _how had she not noticed, they were the same-_

"I'm sorry," he said, his words bringing her part-way back to her senses. "I know you didn't want to know, but you practically already knew - I shouldn't have left that CD there! - and it was too hard for me to explain..." His tentative manner suddenly evaporated; his eyes focused steadily on her. "But that isn't important right now. We need to get out there, if we don't hurry th-"

As if to illustrate his point, the door thudded loudly. He wheeled around to face it, yanking his staff from his belt and twirling it up into a guard position in a single smooth motion.

Ladybug gaped at him all over again. _That was Adrien, Adrien was right there, Adrien was-_

 _Adrien was a black-clad, badass superhero who spouted cat-puns and never stopped flirting with her!_

Before she had even begun to try processing this fact, his voice broke in upon her reverie again. "Go out through the window," he told her, baton clenched tightly in clawed hands, "and come back in through the other room. I'll distract them and hold them off here."

 _Adrien was about to single-handedly face down a horde of hypnotized soldiers in order to give her an opening._

 _Nuh-uh,_ not on her watch! She'd been there with Dark Blade, and she wasn't about to let it happen again! She winced when she thought of how many times that perfect face had been put in harm's way, the mask that concealed it doing little to protect it. It was _Adrien_ who had been snapped at by a t-rex and cornered by a bear and locked in a freezer and nearly incinerated by a dragon and struck out of existence by Chronogirl-

The prospect of some endangerment to him was once again all it took for her brain to re-boot itself. "Are there any cameras?" she asked, managing to use her usual brisk, battle-ready tone.

He'd been shaping up for an imminent skirmish, eyes fixed on the shuddering door; at her words, he turned to her with an aghast expression. "In my _bathroom?"_ he asked, looking and sounding horrified by the notion. "I should hope not!"

Okay, she really wasn't prepared to contemplate the fact that this was _his_ bathroom, and by _his_ that meant _Adrien's_ , and by _Adrien's_ that meant he spent a _lot_ of time in here naked, and she did _not_ need to start picturing that right now, especially not when she had just walked in on him earlier, while he was-

 _Oh_. _Huh_. She had walked in on him in the shower, just after coming from talking to Chat Noir. Which meant he'd been _-_

She wrested her mind back onto the matter at hand with an effort. "Even if Mr Agreste isn't watching camera feeds of the building's exterior from his control room, there's no telling whether Jackady can use his power over his victims to see what they are seeing. It will look odd if Adrien went into the bathroom and Chat Noir comes out."

The tip of his staff wavered, and she wondered if she had insulted him, calling it 'odd'. Which it definitely was, because _Chat Noir was Adrien, it could not possibly get more odd than that! This meant that all this time, she'd been- he'd been- they had-_

"You take the window," she said, forcing herself to corral her wayward thoughts once more. "While they're focused on you, I'll come in through the door and back you up."

"Understood." Without a word further, he stepped past her towards the window, giving her a backward glance that was- _what_? Grateful? Apologetic? Remorseful? Before she could tell which it was, he leapt out and was gone from her sight. Even though it was exactly what she had just told him to do, she had to fight back an overwhelming sense of alarm, reminding herself that it was fine for Adrien to jump out the window because _he was wearing a super-powered cat-suit_.

"Hey, zombies, the brains are over here!" His voice reached her through the closed door moments later. "Come and get 'em, if you don't mind 'em with cat-ears on top!"

Was that _really Adrien?!_ She still wasn't sure if what she had just witnessed was merely a hallucination. A trick of the light. A really bad prank. A really good cosplay. _No_ , she was sure it was genuine, that had been Chat Noir's suit, and it had been Adrien wearing it. Adrien had Chat's kwami, and Chat's signed CD, and had transformed right in front of her and she was pretty sure there was no way he could have faked-

The sound of swift footfalls and the thud of a staff hitting heavy objects filtered through to her scattered consciousness. _Oh yeah_ , she was supposed to be out there backing him up.

She burst through the door, taking the hypnotized army by surprise. Those in the flank position were not prepared when she came at them from behind, knocking them aside with a sweep of her arm or a low kick to the shin. Chat Noir was caught in a knot of them, but he didn't look at all concerned; he vaulted over heads and side-stepped rush attacks as if it was nothing. Which it was, really; their opponents had the advantage of numbers, but they weren't particularly threatening. Besides, he had plenty of experience at this, she realized. How many akuma had they taken down together? Hadn't she seen him defeat Dark Blade in single-combat, and take out the entire Parisian police force not once but twice, and stop a runaway bus with nothing but his staff-

He was evading his attackers, angling toward the door of his room. She dodged a woman who lunged at her and edged after him. He had the right idea, they needed to regroup as soon as possible. There were others here besides themselves; they were supposed to be protecting Natalie and Nino and-

 _... and Mr Agreste... Adrien's father,_ his _father..._

She sprang out into the hallway with single-minded purpose, landing on the stair railing and somersaulting down to the lower level with a sinuous grace that belied her urgency. She saw Chat Noir do the same. When a crowd of possessed citizens swarmed across the atrium towards them, he looked significantly at her, then moved to intercept them, tripping the first of them with the end of his staff. She realized that he was letting her go ahead while he held them off, trusting her to protect the people he cared about in his stead.

She wouldn't allow for that trust to be misplaced. Twisting away from the grasping hands of a hypnotized soldier, she got clear of the crush and sprinted for the door of the control room. It wasn't locked-

It wasn't occupied. The shields over the windows had been retracted, afternoon sunlight streaming in over the framed pictures that had been scattered across the floor. She didn't stop to ponder all the sublime portraits of Adrien that had been treated so discourteously, thrown to the ground during what appeared to have been a struggle. The images were the only Agrestes currently in the room, there was no one-

Or there wasn't, until Chat Noir landed beside her in a low crouch. He paid no attention to the pictures of himself as his eyes swept the room, methodically searching for signs of life. For signs of his father.

"Great, all that for nothing." He stood, giving a slight grimace. The shrug of his shoulders tried to be stoic, but...

But she could see the brave front he was putting on for what it really was. She had just seen him pull a similar act in the bathroom, facing the fall-out from his surprise-reveal with a nonchalance that he couldn't possibly have felt. She had seen him wear a similar expression before, when his father hadn't turned up for Career Day, when he hadn't been allowed a birthday party. Though his mouth was drawn and he wore a resigned look, his eyes were worried.

He had every right to be worried. It was _his father_ that the akuma had taken, _his father_ who was in all kinds of trouble right now. From the way he had spoken of his mother, it seemed she wasn't around anymore, which meant that his father was all he had...

She crossed the floor to him before she fully realized what she was doing, throwing her arms around him and crushing him in a strong hug.

She felt him stiffen, surprised by this uncharacteristic gesture coming from her, but she didn't care. She should be going to pieces over her closeness to Adrien, but there was no way she was going to let her own distraction draw her away from what really mattered here. His _family_ was at risk, and she would be strong for him. He had never needed her more. There was no way she was going to let him down.

She'd had the presence of mind not to shout his name across the room, in case it was also fitted out with cameras and microphones. Beside his human ear, knowing that his kitty ones would amplify it if necessary, she whispered: "We'll get him back, Adrien. We'll save your father. I won't let any harm come to him."

He stood awkwardly, too shocked - too distraught - to react right away. Then his hands slowly came up, clinging to the back of her suit. She could feel the slight shake in them.

"I know," he said, with such touchingly simple faith in her, her resolve wavered. She had to stifle a near-sob that rose in her throat before he could hear it. "We'll save him. We'll save them all, just like we always do." His chin rested on her shoulder; she felt him swallow, his voice a trifle thick when he spoke again. "Thank you. This, it means... he's all I... the o-only one I..."

She knew what he was trying to say. She squeezed him a little more tightly, to steady herself as much as him. "We won't fail," she told both of them. She wouldn't allow herself to fail. Not now, not with so much at stake. She would give him her very best, come what may. Remembering Gabriel's manners when they had last seen him, she added: "We'll make him thankful to us for saving him, whether he wants to be or not."

He managed a weak chuckle; pressed up so close against him, the sound seemed to reverberate through her as well, like a cat's purr. "He won't be happy about that." He drew back to look at her, gazing searchingly into her face. She set it in the most self-assured expression she could manage, trying to dredge up as much confidence as she'd ever had. She must have done something right, for he smiled softly down at her. "I can't wait to see the look on his face when he's forced to admit that we were right. I'll make sure he tells you just how amazing you really are."

She smiled genuinely at that, dropping the hug and instead taking his hand in hers, giving it a comforting squeeze. "I'll look forward to it, Chaton. With any luck, the tv station will catch it all on camera."

He squeezed her hand back, giving her another wan smile that nevertheless seemed to light up the room. "I'd like a copy of it, if it does."

She gently chucked him under the chin. "In that case, Minou, let's head over there - it's time for lights, camera, action!"

She was thankful that she still had some sass left, for his sake. In the face of what was ahead, she needed to keep the tone between them as light as possible. There were so many things they would need to address later, after all this was over, but now wasn't the time. Talks about the reveal could wait; for now, they were heroes, first and foremost. Whoever else they were to each other besides, their current mission brought them closer together than they had ever been.

In perfect synchronization, they ran for the open window. Without letting go of the other's hand, they dove headlong through it. They only dropped their grasp at the last possible moment, when they were forced to take up their respective weapons to slow their fall.

Side by side, they swung and vaulted across the city, in the direction of the TVi studios.

* * *

 _Author's note: so, I decided to disregard general preferences for one long, all-inclusive chapter, because a) this one is far too long, b) it is taking far too long to write, c) it looks weird if I post a two-parter then never do it again, and d) I'm not above messing with you all a bit on purpose :3_

 _If I was a crueler author, this would be the end of this particular vignette, but this is only one half of the full reveal; you can probably already guess what is coming in Part Two. It's been a busy month, and will be a busy month again, but I'll try to get onto the next chapter soon. A belated Happy Halloween! ~ W.J._


	8. Autograph (Part Two)

**Chapter Eight: Autograph (Part Two)**

 _While protecting Adrien from Jackady, Ladybug notices a signed Jagged Stone CD on his desk; but the autograph isn't made out to Adrien..._

* * *

Marinette made a show of yawning widely, stretching her arms above her heard. "I didn't know I was so tired," she mumbled, rubbing non-existent sleep from her eyes.

Her parents looked round from the TV as she came in. Tom tried to look stern, but Sabine giggled at the sight of her daughter's mussed-up pigtails. "We meant for you to stay in so you could catch up on your schoolwork, but catching up on some sleep is a good thing, too!"

Marinette slowly nodded, doing her best to appear drowsy. "I guess I really needed it."

"I'll say! I called you for dinner almost an hour ago, but you didn't even stir. When I peeked in, I was surprised to see you tucked up in bed so early!"

"Sorry, I must have slept really soundly." Marinette was very glad that her bed was atop a ladder, which her mother seldom bothered to climb - the sheets she had propped up must have looked convincing enough!

Sabine seemed to be blithely unaware that she had been deceived. "There's a plate of food for you in the kitchen, if you're hungry."

"Thanks, I'll take it up with me while I get on with my homework."

"Marinette," her father blurted, speaking up for the first time. "I'm proud of you for behaving in such a responsible way, but don't overdo it. If you're not feeling one-hundred percent, don't push yourself unnecessarily, make sure you get enough rest. Your school books will still be there in the morning."

Marinette smiled. She didn't resent her father for making her stay at home; she understood that he had only been so strict with her because he cared about her. After the akuma-battle she had just returned from, every family moment she had - even seemingly mundane exchanges like this - seemed so much more precious. "I know, Papa. I understand, and I'm sorry." She heaved a sigh, hoping it sounded rueful. "I guess I let my designs distract me from my schoolwork sometimes, though I know I shouldn't. I'll try to do better in class, and keep designing mostly for weekends."

She must have looked suitably contrite; Tom got up off the couch and enveloped her in a hug, affectionately ruffling her hair. "You're a good kid, really," he said, pretending that the praise was grudging. It was his half of a familiar routine. Taking her usual cue, Marinette stuck out her tongue at him; he tweaked one of her pigtails in response. "Once your homework is done, you should set some time aside to wipe the floor with me at Mecha Strike III."

She smiled brightly at his suggestion, then hastily sagged as she remembered she was supposed to be looking bleary. "Maybe not tonight. I'm still so tired, you'd probably beat me easy."

"You really think I want to miss an opportunity like that?"

Sabine chuckled, coming over to press a kiss to her daughter's forehead. "Don't let him take advantage of you, sweetie. The least he can do is let you keep your high scores until you're properly awake." Tom pulled a disappointed face behind her back, making Marinette chuckle.

"I'll be sure to properly defend my title tomorrow - after my homework is done. Good night, Maman! Good night, Papa!"

She kissed them both, took the plate from the kitchen countertop (stealthily adding to it on her way past the cookie-jar) and tramped back upstairs, her mind going much faster than her feet.

She didn't know how she'd managed to seem so convincingly tired. Despite the difficult akuma-battle earlier that afternoon, she was feeling wide-awake. She cringed at the memory of it; Ladybug certainly hadn't been at her best today. Almost straight away, she had managed to let Jackady disable her yoyo. If she hadn't already used her Lucky Charm, she would have been left defenceless against the akuma, and that would have doomed everyone else: the hypnotized citizens, the quacking tv-host, the gorilla-like chauffeur, Mr Agreste...

She scrubbed at her face with her free hand, suddenly feeling genuinely weary. The battle had been hard, in more ways than one. It had been the most difficult decision of her life, letting Mr Agreste head for the roof while they stayed back to face Jackady himself. She would never forget how Adrien-

... _Adrien..._

She still wasn't nearly used to thinking of him and Chat Noir as the same person. She would never forget the shell-shocked expression Chat had worn when he had seen his father flapping about the studio like a giant butterfly; nor the anguished shout he gave as Mr Agreste spread his arms and started to 'fly' towards the rooftop.

Though it must have been hard for him, he hadn't let it break him. The entire time she had been kneeling on the floor, frantically ripping up every card she could lay hands on, she had been looking on in awe at her partner, who - to her shame - she had so often disregarded as nothing more than a lackadaisical joker. There had been nothing at all humorous about him today; in fact, she had never seen him quite so finely-honed. If she hadn't known who was behind the mask and how personally invested he was in the fight, she probably would have wondered at his sudden ferocity. The way he had stepped directly into the path of those black cards and simply swatted them out of the air with a single swipe of his baton, while she stood gawking at him with a useless yoyo in her hand... _that_ had been downright _vicious._ By the time they made it to the roof to check on Mr Agreste, her nerves had been almost completely frazzled; but he had calmly stepped forward, informing the disgruntled man that they had been his saviours, without betraying even a hint at the fact that _he was Gabriel Agreste's own son_. That was-

Marinette realized she had reached her room and was standing in the middle of it, gazing blankly at the opposite wall without realizing what she was doing. Tikki sat on the plate in her hand, munching cookies while watching her anxiously. The kwami swallowed hastily when she saw that she had her wielder's attention.

"Are you okay, Marinette?"

She was feeling far from okay, but... no, she had no right to complain, not even in complete privacy like this. This wasn't about _her_ , it was about _Chat_... about _Adrien_...

"I'm fine," she said, crossing the room and setting the plate down on her desk. Though she was glad her kwami was replenishing her strength, she couldn't even _think_ about eating at a time like this.

Tikki seemed slightly reassured. "Are you going to go see him?" she asked next.

"Yes," Marinette surprised herself by answering without hesitation. Not a few hours ago, the idea of going to visit Adrien would have had her in the throes of a nervous breakdown - before being grounded, she had spent _weeks_ meticulously planning the outfit she would wear ahead of seeing him at Nino's TV appearance - but right now, she had absolutely no flutter of nerves on her own account. Only an overwhelming concern for _him_ , for what he must be feeling, what he had been through. Afterwards, with his father standing on the roof behind them and both their Miraculous starting to beep, she had hastily told him that she would catch up with him later. _Now_ was later, and she wanted to go see him as soon as possible.

The idea of him dealing with everything that had happened on his own made her heart ache. She silently berated herself for making them withhold their identities from each other for all this time. If they had known who the other was before today, all this could have been so much easier for him. She shuddered to think of how it would have been if she still didn't know and he was left all alone, with no one to confide in. She would personally make sure he wasn't alone in this, or in anything else, ever again.

She glanced down at Tikki. As soon as she did, she knew she didn't have to ask permission for what was ahead; the kwami had finished her cookies and was smiling reassuringly up at her.

"Ready when you are," she said, as confirmation.

Marinette smiled thankfully back at her. She didn't waste another second.

"Tikki, tranform me!"

* * *

When Ladybug got to the Agreste mansion, she took a circuitous route to the rooftop, carefully avoiding the cameras she now knew were there. She was glad she had always resisted the urge to spy on her crush; if she had been caught on surveillance peeking in through Adrien's windows, she would have been mortified! As it was, when she looked back at how she had treated him - _both_ of him - in the past, she felt like a complete idiot!

She clung to a drainpipe on the side of the house, peering into his room as discreetly as she could. She wanted to respect his privacy; if he looked like he wouldn't want her to-

She spotted him, and her heart clenched painfully at the sight.

He was standing just inside the window, his phone in his hand. She couldn't see his face, but by the hunch of his shoulders - how well she knew those mannerisms by now, that slight tilt of his head was _unmistakably_ Chat! - she could imagine the dejected expression he wore. She thought he was alone, until she noticed the black kwami hovering in the air beside him. She had only gotten a glimpse of it earlier, but had been too distracted at the time to give it much notice. From a distance, she could see that it was small and black, with pointed ears, feline green eyes, and a morose expression. She was thankful that it was there; even though it didn't appear to be giving its wielder an encouraging pep-talk, as Tikki often did for her, its silent presence seemed to be vaguely comforting. Its gaze was directed over Adrien's shoulder, at the screen of his phone-

 _Oh._

By leaning out at a precarious angle, she was able to see it: a photo of that same beautiful woman she had seen before on the monitor. Adrien scrolled his thumb across the screen, and the picture was replace by one of himself smiling at the camera; his mother stood behind him, her cheek resting against the top of his head, her arms clasped round him.

She was just making up her mind to leave, when he suddenly raised his head and turned away from the window. The black kwami shot beneath the collar of his shirt, whisking out of sight. Had someone come into the room? If so, she really should -

Before she could make a move, Gabriel Agreste came into view below. He walked briskly across the room, approached Adrien without checking his stride, paused for a moment in front of him - and then threw his arms around him.

Marinette couldn't imagine a single day gone by when her own father hadn't given her a hug; but from the way Adrien reacted, she guessed that this was a very rare occurrence, coming from Gabriel. He was utterly unprepared for it; he stood stock still, his shoulders tense, as if he were frozen in shock. It was so similar to how he reacted when she had hugged him earlier, she wondered when he had last been hugged by _anyone_ before now.

Slowly, she watched as his posture softened. His arms went up to grip the back of his father's immaculately-tailored suit-jacket. This was unfortunate, as it placed his hand - the one that wore his Miraculous - directly in front of Gabriel's face.

The spell was broken. She saw Gabriel eye the silver ring critically, pulling out of the embrace to give his son a questioning look. She held her breath - _had Chat Noir been discovered?_ She doubted that his father knew about his alter-ego - if she was afraid of _her_ parents finding out, Adrien must be _doubly_ so! She saw his attitude turn defensive as he crossed his arms, subtly drawing his hand out of view. Whatever it was he said in reply, it seemed to deflect Gabriel's attention. After saying a few more words, the man turned on his heel and left the room just as abruptly as he had entered it.

She knew he was gone when Adrien's kwami reappeared. It glanced dolefully in the direction of the door, turned slowly in midair - and looked straight at her. Moments later, a second pair of green eyes was staring up at her.

She froze where she was, not sure of what to do. _Should she just leave?_ The scene she had just witnessed between father and son had been intensely personal; she felt bad for intruding where it wasn't her place. All kinds of boundaries had been crossed today, and she didn't want to blunder over another one. He probably didn't want her there; he would likely need some time alone to-

He rapidly crossed to the window, opened it, and stood back a few steps.

 _Uh, okay,_ that looked like an invitation. Hesitating only a moment longer, she slipped over the edge of the roof, caught the guttering with her yoyo, and swung herself inside, landing a few feet shy of him. Straightening from a crouch, she hesitantly looked up at him. He appeared to meet her gaze with just as much effort. Despite how worried she was about him, she fervently wished she hadn't come; this was far too awkward to deal with just now, or perhaps _ever_.

"Hello," he finally said, looking very ill-at-ease. "Thank you, f-for coming back."

"N-n-not at all," she managed to stammer out. "Thank you, for h-having me."

He acknowledged her thanks with a bashful nod. She didn't remember ever having seen him this tentative before, in either guise. "This is Plagg - my kwami," he unnecessarily explained, gesturing at the tiny black cat that hovered in the air.

"H-hello, Plagg," she said, not knowing what else to say. Plagg nodded in reply, green eyes regarding her warily. It occurred to Marinette that though the tiny black kwami wasn't as demonstrative about it, he was just as protective of his wielder as Tikki was of her; the guarded expression on his face seemed to warn her not to hurt the boy any more than he already had been. Clutching what looked like a wedge of cheese between his paws, he gave her one last pointed look before drifting away to some remote corner of the large room, leaving them to talk between themselves.

Adrien stood in silence, staring at the floor. Ladybug did the same, her assuredness once again failing her. The atmosphere was strongly reminiscent of the earlier scene in the bathroom. She supposed they were both still reeling from that; she knew _she_ was, and could well imagine _he_ was too.

"Thank you for today," he said, once again breaking the silence first. "And... I'm sorry. I knew you didn't want to know who I was, but I told you anyway, against your will." To her dismay, she saw an anguished look pass over his face. "I was panicking when I told you, but that's still no excuse. I shouldn't have forced you to-"

"No," she firmly interrupted, "it's fine, Adrien. Chat Noir," she corrected, hastily remembering who _she_ was, who she was _talking to_. He flinched slightly - at her use of which name, she couldn't tell. "I'm actually glad you did," she went on, truthfully. "Given the situation, it was the right choice to make. I was... uh, acting pretty unreasonably, refusing to listen to you, so it's partly _my_ fault that you had to tell me. _I_ should be the one apologizing to _you_."

He smiled at her - that same polite, tolerant smile she had seen him wear so often before. It was so characteristic of _Adrien,_ but she had never imagined that _Chat_ could smile like that... as if he didn't really mean it. "That's okay. It was all very confusing, and I wasn't doing a very good job of explaining it." He gave a dismissive shrug. "Still, I _do_ have to apologize. You're probably... disappointed. That I'm _me_ , I mean."

She couldn't form a coherent reply to such an astounding statement. When she didn't say anything, he continued with eyes downcast, speaking to the floor. "I know _I_ would be disappointed, in your place. I don't know how much you know about me, but... my father is a designer, and I work for him, as a professional fashion model. That isn't meant to be a boast, by the way - quite the opposite."

His well-shaped lips twisted up in an ironic smile. "Impressive, you think? That I'm handsome enough to be famous for my looks? But looks don't count for much against an akuma - or in any other worthwhile situation, really. All I basically do is help my father sell some clothes. Otherwise, I'm pretty useless. You'd be embarrassed associate with me, if you knew how spineless I really am. I always do whatever I'm told; I go to school, only after having begged to be allowed to go, instead of being tutored at home; I trot back and forth between all the extra classes I'm required to do; then I go to photo shoots, wear what I'm told to wear, sit through styling and make-up, smile for the camera when I'm told to. I've gotten really good at smiling on demand - I've had plenty of practice at it!"

Reading disdain into her continued silence, he gave a bitter laugh. "I bet you never expected such a pitiful Chat Noir! I'm really ashamed that you found out... that I'm just _me_. I'm not really a Chat Noir who... who is _worthy_ of you. A far more fitting Chat Noir would be someone athletic, capable, street-smart, altruistic. Instead, the thing I'm best known for is how I stand and pose. Lame, isn't it? Aside from being a so-called celebrity, I'm actually a very boring person. I never do anything interesting, anything that really _matters_. The only time I'm truly of use to anyone... is when I'm _Chat Noir_. And that's _Plagg's_ doing, not me. The rest of the time... I'm just a boring-"

She couldn't hold back any longer. She had been biting her tongue for fear of saying something to upset him, but she just couldn't stand any more of this. She was _so angry_ \- at whoever it was, Gabriel probably, who had made him like this; at Adrien, for being so unfair on himself; at _herself_ , for not realizing that both Adrien's magazine- worthy smile and Chat's goofy grin had always hidden so much from her.

"Are you _really_ feeling sorry for yourself, for reasons like _that_?!" she demanded. Her sudden outburst took him by surprise; he actually rocked back on his heels, as if her words nearly knocked him over. "Do you _really_ believe that? Tikki - my kwami - is always on at _me_ for under-estimating myself, but you just-! How can you _possibly_ not realize how _amazing_ you are?!"

He stared at the ground again, shuffling his feet. "I wasn't trying to fish for compli-"

"Shut up!" She took a few steps towards him, jabbing an accusatory finger at him. He was so surprised, he couldn't even shrink away from her, standing rooted to the spot in wide-eyed amazement. "Now you listen to me, because even if you don't realize it yet, I _do_ know what I'm talking about! You are an _incredible_ person, and don't you _dare_ try to say otherwise! You're smart, talented, kind, thoughtful, polite to a fault, courageous, _stupidly_ selfless, absolutely _gorgeous_ to boot - and though I may have criticized it in the past, your sense of humour really isn't _that_ bad!"

She took a moment to gauge his reaction. He looked as shocked as she must have done when she had discovered his secret; his mouth was agape in a very un-photogenic manner. She took a deep breath and went on, in a tone that was slightly calmer, but still brooked no argument.

"I don't know what you expect of yourself. I don't know what you expect of _me_ , to have set your standards so high. If you think _you're_ lame, I'm beyond all hope." When he made some inarticulate sound of protest, she impatiently cut him off. "No, _listen_! I'm not sure what kind of Chat Noir you thought I would expect, but I know the kind of Chat Noir you _are_ , and I couldn't ask for anything better. I-" She faltered for the first time, shamefully dropping her gaze. "I'm sorry for never telling you that. I honestly _mean_ it. Finding out who you are behind the mask has nothing to do with it." She caught the look of scepticism in his face, instantly railing against it. "It _doesn't_. Sure, now I know who you are - Adrien Agreste, god's gift to fashion-minded women, Greek deity in facsimile; good-looking, rich future-husband material, admirable in so many ways that aren't important - and so many that _are_. Can you deny that you have saved all of Paris _so_ many times over? Or that you've saved _me_ quite a few times as well?"

When he didn't dare try to counter her claim, she gave him a smile, the softness of which completely countered how abrupt her manner had been. "Who hands out shock-blankets after an attack, checks that the victims are alright, updates the police while I'm busy dealing with the press? You may think I don't notice that you do all that, but I _do_. Who tells stupid jokes and makes me laugh - or at least, distracts me by making me cringe - whenever we're in a tight spot? Who has _stupidly_ taken several hits for me, gone along with my dumb plans even when they don't work, had the guts to confront me when I've done something out of line?" She reached out, laying a hand on his arm. He gave a start, perhaps from the feel of her glove against his bare skin.

"I've told you before, Minou: I couldn't do this without you. I wouldn't _be_ Ladybug without _you_. Remember when the police accused us of being amateurs, and I agreed with them because I hadn't cleansed Stoneheart, which created such a mess? If you hadn't said what you did back then, I would have been ready to give up. I couldn't have taken on Papillion himself, couldn't have fought all those other akuma, if I hadn't had _you_ by my side from the very start. _I_ have been pathetic at times, but _you_ have always been wonderful. _Miraculous_ , even."

He smiled weakly at her quip, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thank you. I-it means a lot, hearing you say that. But, still... Chat is just one side of me. Adrien is-"

"Adrien _is_ Chat," she insistently countered. Tikki had said something very like this to her, on more than one occasion; she tried to remember how her kwami had put it. " _You_ are Chat Noir, Adrien. Everything that Chat Noir is has to come from somewhere, and it comes from _you_. Sure, you can't be Chat all the time - it would be exhausting for you if you were, and even more so for _me_ -" he chuckled a bit at that "-but that doesn't mean you're any less amazing when you're just being Adrien."

"You don't know me as Adrien," he tried to argue. "If you did-"

"I wouldn't be so sure," she muttered under her breath. When he blinked in surprise, having only half-heard what she said, she hastily took a different tact. "You don't know what _I'm_ like as a civilian, either. I'm just a normal girl - well, normal for _me_. Just like you're normal for _you_. Besides being a famous model and everything, you have your own ordinary life, and that's a good thing; you _need_ that respite from all the city-saving you do, _need_ to be a part of what it is that we protect. There are people you see every day, whose lives you make a difference to - and not just when you pull them out of a villain's way. Like that guy at the studio today, Nino; look how concerned he was when we were looking for you. He's a good friend of yours, isn't he? He wouldn't be, if he honestly thought you were 'useless' or 'boring' - and he seemed like a pretty good judge of character."

Which was true; if she had only listened to Adrien's explanation about the gum the first time round, like Nino had done, she would have made friends with him a lot sooner. And she still hadn't learned; today, she had _again_ failed to listen to him. She felt terrible about how it had happened, how he had been forced to sacrifice his secret identity for his father's sake - all because she still wouldn't _listen_.

Now, she had to make amends for that. She folded her arms in order to hide the fact that her elbows were trembling. She really _wanted_ to tell him, though the thought of him knowing nearly had her almost scared out of her mind. Still, it was only fair; he was her partner, he _deserved_ to know, and she couldn't bear the thought of his reveal remaining one-sided like it was now. She took another deep breath, knowing what came next - _it was now or never_.

" _I_ don't think you're useless or boring, either," she went on, managing to keep her voice level. "Sure, I may have spent less time with Adrien than I have with Chat, but I enjoyed what little time we've had together. Before all hell broke loose, when we were just chatt-ing-" she earned another chuckle with that "-I was having a lot of fun. If that's what Adrien Agreste is like, I don't find him at all lame or boring. I was listening to what you had to say, and I genuinely found it interesting. We have the same taste in music, remember? You were right when you said it was difficult to fight against my favourite rock-singer."

He smiled despite himself, looking almost shyly at her. "You were right as well: that ten-foot purple dragon really _did_ make things more difficult."

" _Of course_ I'm right - who do you think I am?" They shared a laugh, though the rhetoric question was meant all too seriously - in a few moments, _he wouldn't wonder any more_. Heart thudding painfully in her ears, she went on: "It's not just me and Nino, either; you must have a lot of other people around you, who see how great you really are. Like that other friend of yours, Marinette - the one you were telling me about. The one who designed Jagged Stone's latest album cover."

"The one you had me protect from Evilstrator?" he asked, with a shadow of his usual grin.

"Yeah, that one." He had done well when they talked earlier, pretending to think she had no idea who Marinette was when Adrien spoke of her! But she was about to do one better than him... "I bet she wouldn't consider you a friend if she thought you were boring or useless. And _you_ don't think _she's_ boring - do you?"

She couldn't quite keep her nerves out of her voice. She held her breath until Adrien vehemently shook his head. "Of course not," he said, as if the very idea was ridiculous. _He had no idea what it had to do with anything..._

"Good." Ladybug braced herself... and then dropped her transformation in a flash of pink light. "I'd be insulted if you thought I was."

She was vaguely aware of Tikki floating away from her, perhaps going over to join Plagg. She didn't notice; her gaze was riveted elsewhere. If Adrien had seemed shocked before, he now looked completely thunderstruck. She tried to look at something else - the carpet, his posters, her shoes, _anything_ \- but her eyes kept getting drawn back to him, looking for some other signs of reaction. For several long moments, they just stared at each other in complete silence.

"...Marinette...?" he finally breathed, in a voice that sounded faint with disbelief.

"Yes, i-it's me." She could barely manage to utter anything more round the lump in her throat, though she valiantly tried. "Sorry, p-perhaps I shouldn't h-"

He staggered forward and swooped on her so suddenly, she gave a muffled squeal that was quite unworthy of Ladybug. He didn't seem to notice; he was busy burying his face in the shoulder of her jacket, his arms encircling her almost tight enough to squeeze another squeak out of her.

"It's you," he said, against the fabric of her shirt. "It's _you_ , it was always _you_ , you were... my lady, _y-you were_..." He fell silent, simply holding her as if she might slip through his grasp at any moment. Recovering as best she could, she wrapped her arms around him as well.

"Yes, it was me all along. I'm sorry, I'm certainly not disappointed that it's you, b-but... if you're a bit disappointed it's me, I wouldn't blame y-"

He clutched her even more tightly, as if he meant to smother out her words by grasping her too tightly to let her speak. "Of _course_ I'm not disappointed!" he hissed, sounding scandalized by the idea. "Of _course_ I'm not! How _could_ I be? It was _you_ , it was always _you_... _y-you are_..." He abruptly stopped speaking, snuffling softly against her shirt. Her collar felt damp. He was trying to hide it, but his shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.

"T-thank you," he whispered brokenly, almost too low for her to hear. "Thank you, for t-today, and just... f-for everything. I j-just... y-you are..."

With tears in her own eyes, she reach up to gently stroke his hair. "It's okay," she said, murmuring every reassuring thing she could possibly think of. "It's okay now. I'm here. It's me, I'm with you, I've _always_ been with you. I'm your Lady, and you're my Chaton. It's okay."

In case he still had any lingering doubts, she added: "I'm so glad that it's _you_ , Adrien - that you're _my Chat Noir_."

* * *

Once they had both managed to calm down a bit, they sat on the couch together.

Adrien sank shakily onto the cushions, apologizing for not having offered her a seat sooner. His insistence on manners at a time like this was more than a bit ridiculous, and they both knew it; but neither of them was in a fit state to point it out.

"I've made a fool of myself," he muttered with an embarrassed chuckle, running a swift hand over his face. His hair, tousled where his fingers ran through it (or perhaps where she had stroked it earlier) looked so much like Chat's, the resemblance was blindingly obvious.

Marinette used the edge of her sleeve to dab at eyes that he had so often seen before, framed by a red-spotted mask. "No you haven't," she firmly told him. "It's been a difficult day for you. You've been handling it all so well, Adrien."

He looked carefully at her, blinked rapidly several times, and then slowly smiled. "So, it was _you_ all this time."

She didn't know what to say to that; there was little that could be said for how oblivious they had both been around each other. He went on, tapping his chin as he spoke, as if he was only just figuring something out. "So _that's_ why you sent me to watch over Mari- uh, over _you_ when Evilstrator was after you! And _that's_ how you got into the school when Horrificator attacked, why you were already there when Kung Food appeared! Is _that_ why you weren't in gym class on Monday? Between all the students who've been akumatized, and me - a-and you as well, _us_ \- constantly sneaking out, the teachers have been getting really strict on attendance. I tried to get to the scene of the helicopter crashed, but I couldn't manage it; by the time I made up an excuse that Mr D'Argencourt would accept, Nino was watching the news feed on his phone, and you were already shaking hands with the helicopter pilot."

Marinette flushed the same delicate pink as her jeans. Just hours ago, she had been complaining to Tikki that saving the world was a thankless task; to be getting recognition for her feats, and from _Adrien_ no less, was more than a little too good to be true. "Y-yeah, I, uh, got in trouble for that; my parents were sent a letter because I was absent so much this week. But it wasn't like I _couldn't_ go help, not when the alert came up on Alya's phone. Actually, it's kind of thanks to her that I was able to get there. She almost got sent to the principal's office for disrupting class; while she was arguing with the teacher, I looked out the window, saw the helicopter flying erratically with smoke trailing after it, and I knew I had to-"

Just like that, she was explaining to him how the mayor had insisted that the new police helicopter be demonstrated to the press before an engineer could properly check it out, causing a near-disaster; how she hadn't been at all sure that her 'unbreakable' yoyo string would withstand the rotors, right up until the stricken craft had landed safely in the net she had woven for it. Before she knew it, he was telling her about how Chat Noir had foiled a robbery that took place near the location of an Agreste photo shoot, apprehending the criminals without Ladybug anywhere in sight. (Marinette had been stuck in chemistry at the time - she had apparently asked Mrs Mendeleiev for one bathroom-break too many!)

Just like that, they were trading stories, asking each other questions, laughing at the things on each side that they had been completely unaware of - they were pretty sure they had transformed on opposite sides of the same wall more than once! Marinette could hardly believe that she had ever considered it a struggle to say more than a few coherent words to Adrien. All of a sudden, conversing with her 'Chaton' seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

They could have easily gone on like that all night. They only stopped when the alarm went off on Marinette's phone at a quarter to ten, making them both jump. She had set it just in case she lost track of time like this. Her parents would be going to bed soon, and they might check in on her before they turned in; she really had to get back in case they did. The cushion under her bedclothes had worked once, but she didn't want to push her luck!

Adrien chuckled as she told him how she had fooled her mother with such a simple trick. "You'd be welcome to stay here otherwise," he said, more than a little wistfully. Marinette wondered if anybody would notice if _he_ was missing from his room late at night. If not, she couldn't quite manage to envy him, inconvenient though her parents' attentiveness sometimes was.

Speaking of 'attentive', she realized that Adrien was watching her intently, green eyes looking searchingly into her face. Realizing he had been caught staring at her, he smiled sheepishly. "I-I'm trying to convince myself that this hasn't all been a dream," he admitted.

Marinette reached up and gave him her customary bop on the nose - as if she would've had the nerve to do that to _Adrien_ before now! - in the hope that it convinced him of how real she was. "Do I look like a dream to you, Minou?" she asked, giving his a playful wink.

Perhaps she did; he blinked at her again, as if he didn't quite trust his eyes. "You might be," he said, with another low chuckle. "It _seems_ like a dream. I've wanted to know who you are for _so_ long... now that I know, it's kind of hard to believe."

For the first time in almost an hour, she found herself stuttering around him. "S-sorry. I know it seems unlikely - clumsy, stumbling Marinette, actually a superhero who can leap a single-"

"No!" he cut in hastily, "I d-didn't mean it like that! I just..." He turned his gaze away slightly. It was so odd to see him - _either_ of him - behaving so bashfully, she wondered if _she_ should be the one questioning how real _he_ was. "I'm just so glad to finally know who you are, I honestly couldn't be happier. I'm _so_ glad that it's you, I can hardly believe my luck!"

She had nothing to say in the face of such lavish praise. She must almost certainly be dreaming - she had never, ever dreamed that Adrien, or even Chat, could possibly react like this if they - he - ever found out who she was!

He wasn't done; he rubbed the back of his neck, apparently sorting through his words. "I'm sorry, for being so insistent about it in the past. About wanting to know who you are, and for pressuring you about it. I know you would rather have kept it a secret, but... I really, _really_ wanted to know. The reasons are personal, and I didn't want to force it on you when it really had nothing to do with you, but... you see, my mother..." His eyes automatically flitted towards the computer, and hers followed. The screen was blank, but they both remembered the photo they had seen there that afternoon.

"She suddenly disappeared a few years ago," he said softly, as if saying it any louder would make it too real. Just like the hugs, she wondered how long it had been since he had last talked about this; the words didn't seemed to come easily, though he determinedly spoke on. "One day she was there, and the next... she was just gone without a trace. The police searched for her, and Father hired private investigators, but... they couldn't find her. He was never quite the same after that. You saw today what he's like." He gave her the ghost of a grin. "Nino _is_ a great judge of character. He was right to make friends with me, right to have a crush on _you_... and he was right about Father, he really _does_ suck. I hate the way he is now, he's a terrible parent, but... he's the only one I have left."

He paused, giving Marinette time to swallow the lump in her throat; to blink through the tears that suddenly stung her eyes.

"I think he probably is the way he is because he blames himself for her disappearing. I know _I_ blamed myself for a while, though that doesn't really make sense on the face of it. I just couldn't fathom that she was suddenly _gone_ , as easily as that; there was no logical reason for it, no warning signs. I've spent countless hours wracking my brain, trying to work out why or how it could happen. I thought I should have noticed something, seen something that would explain it; but I kept coming up a complete blank."

He had been speaking with his gaze introspectively fixed on nothing in particular. Now, his eyes focused directly on her; the tender look in them made her catch her breath. "Then, when I met you, I guess I started to worry that the same thing would happen again. I know it sounds strange, but... the only way I had of finding you was to wait for you to turn up when an akuma appeared. I was terrified that one day, you just wouldn't show up, and I'd never know why; that I'd know even less about you than I did about Mother, and I'd have no hope of ever finding you without even knowing who you were, and I-"

She dove at him and knocked him backwards onto the couch, so forcefully did she launch herself at him. For the third time that day, she held him tight, clasping her arms round him as she stood over him, her face buried in his hair. He seemed just as surprised this time as he had been all those times before. She swore that from now on, she would hug him so much, it would become entirely commonplace for him.

She turned aside so that her cheek rested atop his head, freeing her lips to speak. "You will never lose me," she said, more sure of this than she had ever been of anything. "I'll always be here, Adrien. I'll never disappear on you, _ever_. I swear I'll never leave you. You can _always_ find me, I'll _always_ be here. I _promise_."

He hesitantly reached up; when she made no move to pull away, he gave her a strong hug back.

"Thank you," he said, in a voice that was barely audible; yet she could _hear_ how much this meant, how much not-knowing before must have tortured him. She _hated_ that she was partly the one who had done that to him. Her heart felt so heavy, it was about ready to plummet through the floor.

If she hadn't had parents waiting for her at home, she might never have let go.

* * *

"No absences or delays for the entire week," Tom said, beaming over the top of the school report he held in his hand. "I'm very proud of you, Marinette. You can go and join your friend if you want... though I'm tempted to make you beat me at Mecha Strike first!"

He smirked at her behind his moustache. Knowing just what he was teasing her about - a knowledge consolidated by her mother's meaningful glances - Marinette blushed brilliantly. "You know I'd win anyway," she retorted, in a woeful attempt at nonchalance, "so that's hardly necessary, is it?"

"Ditching your own father for a boy!" Tom declared, dramatically pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. "Such disloyalty!"

"It's not like that!" Marinette denied, turning a darker shade of crimson. "I'm just going along to support Nino, and since Adrien will be there too, we agreed to meet up and go over to the studios together-"

She knew from the significant look that her parents exchanged that they didn't buy it. They were quite right not to. It was a blessing that they weren't aware of just how much she and Adrien had been in contact throughout the past week; otherwise, she'd never hear the end of it! The attention she had paid to him put her schoolwork to shame, despite her improved grades. In fact, he was part of the reason behind it.

After learning why she hadn't been able to join him and Nino at the tv studios, Adrien had insisted on helping her catch up on her schoolwork, coaching her through a tricky set of physics questions over Skype. They had agreed that acting overly-familiar with each other out of the blue at school would appear suspicious, so they had been very careful to keep their sudden close friendship under wraps. Marinette knew that Alya would go into raptures over her speaking half-coherently to Adrien, let alone _hugging him repeatedly_ ; luckily, for most of the week she had been distracted by pumping both boys for first-hand information on Ladybug and Chat Noir's fight with Jackady. It had been downright _hilarious_ listening to Adrien talk about his 'interactions' with Chat Noir, as if he was a separate person; they had caught each other's eye as he described how Chat Noir had escorted him to safety, and both very nearly cracked up! Thankfully, Alya had taken her suppressed giggles for the usual love-struck behaviour, saving her from having to pretend to still stutter around him - that would have been too much!

On the subject of speaking easily, she expected to be grounded again, once her parents saw the phone bill she had wracked up before they had wisely switched to an online messaging service. Although, they might be more lenient if they knew that she was actually now ahead in her schoolwork. Adrien was often given the teachers' notes ahead of time, to compensate for all the classes he missed while he was away on photo shoots. With his help, she had done a bit more than their teacher had already set them, freeing her up for any sudden akuma attacks. It turned out to be an uneventful week, meaning she'd had plenty of spare time for long conversations with Adrien: going over past exploits with him, holding four-way chats with their kwamis, coming up with better strategies for getting out of class, brainstorming excuses that would support each other. Just talking and laughing, getting to know each other like the very best of friends. Which was what he already was to her, really - probably more than just a 'friend', if she was being honest with herself. But there was no way she would admit as much to her parents - not that they seemed to be completely unaware of it!

As she shrugged off their prying and walked to Adrien's house, she fought down flutters in her stomach that were nearly as formidable as Papillion's butterflies. This was the first time in almost a week that they would properly see each other face to face - at least, until they met up with Nino. They had been consciously acting indifferent at school, and Adrien had insisted on doing all their patrols by himself, in case Marinette's parents caught her sneaking out and grounded her again. Sure, they had talked a lot on the phone and over the net, but being together in person, as their _real_ selves, would be... _different_.

As she walked along the pavement with her heart sprinting a hundred miles ahead of her, she scolded herself for letting nerves get the better of her. It wasn't like she went to pieces around him any more - it wasn't like she _could_ , after all he was just Chat, who put her at ease better than just about anyone could - no, this was... something other than the old nerves, though it certainly felt similar. She knew full well what _these_ flutters meant - had known ever since he handed her his umbrella - and they weren't at all bad; quite the opposite. She had the distinct feeling she wasn't the only one who got them, either. From the way she had caught him looking at her across the room at school, before he flushed and hastily turned away; the way he sometimes stuttered for no reason while they talked over Skype - not to mention the un-subtle hints Plagg kept dropping every time he got in front of the webcam - she suspected that he often got attacks of the butterflies too - the _good_ kind.

She had always known that Chat Noir liked Ladybug, but to know that Adrien didn't mind Marinette either... And to think that her cheeky Chaton was behind Adrien's gentle smile! If she hadn't already been in love with h-

" _Psst_!"

At the sound of a sudden stealthy hiss, she whirled and clutched at her purse, glancing about with senses on high alert. She could have _sworn_ she had heard a voice she recognized, but there was nobody-

Realizing who it was and making a logical guess, she looked up. Sure enough, Chat Noir was perched atop the wall surrounding the Agreste mansion.

"Good to see you, Nette," he said, tail flicking from side to side as he smiled down at her.

Marinette frowned. Though he looked casual enough, she sensed some tension about him. He had used the code word they had decided on - 'nette', as in 'Marinette' and 'Buginette' - for when he needed to signal her to transform, without giving themselves away. (Her equivalent was to ask him about the new scarf Gabriel was designing, the true significance of which only she understood; given how fraught his relationship with his father already was, she would beat herself up with her own yoyo before she let him find out the truth behind that!)

"What's up, Chat Noir?" she asked, keeping her tone light in case they were overheard.

He gave the little eyebrow-waggle that prefaced one of his jokes. "Besides myself, you mean?" He straightened and strode along the top of the wall; she followed him away from the main road, stopping at a point where a tree hid them both from view.

"What's wrong?" she asked, in an urgent whisper. "Is it an akuma-?"

"No," he quickly assured her. "No, it's not- at least, not yet it isn't..." He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture she had quickly come to recognize as a sign of uncertainty. "Well, there _could_ be one soon, considering what happened last time someone failed on _The Challenge_."

She quickly deciphered what he meant. "Is Nino...?"

"He wasn't supposed to tell me what his challenge for this week would be, but you know Nino. He, er, has trouble keeping things to himself."

Marinette smiled. She had heard Alya complain of the same thing several times since the pair had started dating, in terms that were far less mild.

"He said that this time, the ones he's inviting to dance to his music are... Ladybug and Chat Noir."

"Oh," Mariette said, though this was hardly a surprise.

"Yeah," Chat Noir agreed. "He said that after they looked out for him during Jackady, he knows they won't let him down."

"And they won't," Marinette declared. Easing behind the trunk of the tree, she opened her purse, exchanged a quick look with her kwami, and said: "Tikki, transform me!"

Moments later, Ladybug leapt up onto the wall beside Chat Noir. "In the interest of akuma-prevention, may I have this dance, Chaton?" she asked, coyly offering him her hand.

He took it and bent over it, sweeping a gallant bow as he pressed it to his lips; the butterflies in her stomach started a premature dance of their own.

"I thought you'd never ask, my Lady," he said, grinning at her slight blush - though his face was much the same colour as her own. "With Adrien forced to attend a sudden photo-shoot, he won't be missed at the studios; and since his driver was told that he'll be staying in to finish his Chinese homework, we're free to make our own way there." He grinned proudly in response to her approving smirk; though she didn't normally condone lying, telling falsehood was fast becoming an essential super-power for them both. "Nino tells me that he has prepared a kick-ass mix for us - I have to agree, since it features my favourite Jagged Stone song!"

She smiled fondly, remembering the conversation about music that had led up to this - it seemed like such a long time ago, though it had only been exactly a week. "Well, that tv screen over by the park should give us our cue. Shall we head for the dance floor? I trust you not to step on my toes."

His mouth quirked sideways at her slight dig. "Wouldn't dream of it, my Lady. I'll have you know that my dance moves are good enough to charm pigeons - in fact, Jagged Stone himself once called me the most rockin' cat in Paris!"

She regarded him with a raised eyebrow; she vividly recalled his fancy-footed attempts to lure out Mr Pigeon. "From what I've already seen of them, your moves are hardly rockin'." She allowed herself a vengeful leer. "Have you cleaned up your act since then, or are you still not-showering?"

He blushed a shade of crimson that matched her suit. Ever since she found out that he had only been pretending to shower when she walked in on him, she had teased him relentlessly about it - she had to get her revenge on him for nearly giving her a heart attack somehow!

"In case you haven't noticed, my ears are perfectly clean," he retorted, fiddling uncomfortably with one of his cat-ears.

Taking pity on him, she reached up and tapped him affectionately on the nose. "In that case, Minou, let's go clean up the dance floor - let's see if you really _do_ have moves like Jagged!"

He rubbed the tip of his nose where she had touched it, beaming at her. "Let's get this paw-ty started, my Lady!"

She groaned as they leapt off the wall in unison. She really wished she hadn't told him that his sense of humour wasn't that bad - he had been absolutely insufferable ever since! Still, as she watched him perform an unnecessary handspring from atop a nearby chimney, she couldn't find it in her heart to mind all that much.

He was _happy_ , he wasn't alone, and she loved him - that was all that _really_ mattered.

It was only later, after Ladybug and Chat Noir had delighted viewers across Paris, and left their DJ chuffed, with their spirited waltz to his remix of a popular rock song; after Chat Noir had pulled off some dance moves that were several decades out of date, while a laughing Ladybug countered with an elegant pirouette; once Marinette and Adrien were both safe and accounted for in their respective bedrooms - after that, when the two heroes met for patrol and reprised some of their dance steps atop the Arc d'Triomphe; then, she finally had the chance to tell him that it was _he_ r favourite Jagged Stone song, too.

They really _did_ have so much in common!

* * *

 _Author's note: wow, I really laid the angst on in this one, didn't I? I didn't mean to, it just kind of went there on its own._

 _Readers who've read my other Miraculous fic will know by now that I like delving into the psyches of the characters, and Adrien is my favourite subject. Poor guy is a bundle of unresolved issues, and I used this story to touch on one that hasn't been blatantly obvious, but seems to be simmering below the surface._

 _While it's common knowledge that Marinette has considered herself unworthy of being Ladybug, I have the feeling that Adrien is the opposite: he thinks that Adrien would be worthless if he wasn't Chat Noir. In one of the webisodes, he said that he doesn't really like modelling very much, and it goes without saying that he outright hates how little control he has over his own life. I have the feeling that he is rather self-conscious about how sheltered he has been growing up; the way he floundered during roll-call on his first-ever day at school shows just how different he is from the average teenager. Besides using Chat Noir to gain a bit of freedom from his restrictive lifestyle, he probably sees it as a means of serving some greater purpose than just doing what he's told and looking pretty, which is what his ordinary life amounts to._

 _Sure, Marinette fills the same heroic role as Ladybug; but she has her ambition to be a designer, her duties as class president, and her pursuit of Adrien to come back to when she detransforms. What does Adrien have? His lessons, his modelling, and his infatuation with Ladybug. The fact that he hates getting attention and giving autographs as Adrien, yet waves madly at the cameras and seeks out Marinette 's praise as Chat, is very revealing. In his mind, I imagine he regards Chat Noir as his best self, and Adrien as the sad inadequate person he has to be when Plagg's energy runs out. It's similar to how Marinette takes on more confidence as Ladybug, but in a different way: whereas Marinette seems aware of how differently people must perceive her civilian mode as opposed to Ladybug, Adrien's dilemma is about how he sees himself._

 _Sorry, that got very Freudian. In unrelated news, I'd like to follow this chapter up with something a bit more light-hearted. I've been trying to write a good variety of different stories, switching points of view between the protagonists and avoiding writing anything too similar multiple times over. I'd like to try switching tones as well, in order to keep it interesting. Several readers have commented that they liked Chapter Five (Cheese) the best so far, and I must admit it's probably my favourite too; it is one of the zaniest things I've ever written! I don't think I could handle outright crack, but I'd like to try writing something else that's a bit like slapstick!_

 _Speaking of funny things, if you haven't already, please go and check out theinkwell33's amazing series of stories, 'Behind the Masks'. As I've already mentioned, that fic was a huge influence on this one. The most recent installment of 'Behind the Masks' is based on a prompt suggested, so go read it, it is hilarious, and might tide you over until I've written my next update - maybe! ~ W.J._


	9. Glasses

**Chapter Nine: Glasses**

 _Worried that Alya will recognize her as Ladybug, Marinette steals her glasses. Adrien does the same to Nino. Great minds think alike, or a bad idea twice over?_

* * *

Alya scowled hideously at the page in front of her. She automatically reached up to adjust her glasses, then scowled again when she only managed to tap herself on the bridge of her nose. Fiddling impatiently with her pen, she turned to the girl beside her with an exasperated huff.

"Can't you go a bit faster, Marinette? I'm falling further behind, and the bell is about to go."

"I don't think I can," Marinette apologetically murmured back. She was carefully copying the teacher's notes from the blackboard onto a piece of notepaper; several similar sheets were already stacked by Alya's elbow. "If I go much faster, it'll be too hard for you to read."

Alya rolled her unadorned eyes. "No it won't. You have the best hand-writing out of everyone in the class; you're a designer, after all."

Though it was certainly a compliment, Marinette pulled a face. "My sketches are messy when I'm not being careful; I'm making sure that it's legible."

"Illegible is better than non-existent, Mari. Just scrawl it down quick as you can, let me worry about deciphering it."

"Okay, okay. Here's what I have so far-" Marinette handed over her half-filled page, pulled a new sheet towards her, and began urgently writing at almost double the pace.

A seat ahead of them, Nino squinted at the paper in his hand as if he was trying to read a distant street-sign. He held it closer to his face, turned it at an angle, even flipped it upside-down, and finally gave up, tossing it down on the desk. Rubbing his aching eyes without attempting to remove non-existent glasses, he gave the boy beside him a nudge with his elbow.

"Dude, you do realize I need to be able to read your notes in order to copy them, right? What are these, hieroglyphs?"

"At least they're not Chinese," Adrien retorted, not pausing as he dashed out another line of haphazard cursive.

"It might as well be," Nino muttered, waving the unintelligible sheet of notes at him.

"I'm just trying to make sure you keep up with everyone, you'll fall behind otherwise."

"I'm falling behind anyway. Seriously, how can someone ho's so neat in everything else have such messy writing? Are you planning on becoming a doctor or something?"

Adrien gave a very un-model-like smirk. "Hey, if an apple a day would keep the photographers away..."

Nino cuffed him lightly on the arm; luckily, it was his non-writing hand. "Your jokes are apple-ing."

Adrien snickered under his breath, the sound mingling with the scratch of his pen. "Good one."

"I've sunk to your level. Now that I've impressed you with my equally-rotten humour, will you _please_ rewrite this?"

"Yeah, yeah, give me a sec-" Adrien took the offending paper from him, selected a blank sheet, and began writing at half his previous pace.

A series of groans echoed round the classroom. Though the four of them had been bickering in half-whispers, the other students had clearly heard them. Ms Bustier turned from the blackboard with a long-suffering look; not that the ones she directed it at could see it. "Alya, Nino, do you _still_ not have any glasses? I know you said you'd try to find the ones you lost, but you've been without them for almost a week. If you can manage to get some replacement-"

"But I liked my old ones," both Nino and Alya said, at the exact same time.

Nearly everyone laughed, even Ms Bustier. The only ones who didn't so much as chuckle were Marinette and Adrien.

They were too busy writhing in silent guilt.

* * *

Marinette looked forward to the weekly release of _La Mode_ magazine. She always appreciated the chance to ogle new pictures of Adrien in his father's clothes - _partly_ for the clothes, _mostly_ for Adrien.

This week, she'd had extra reason to anticipate it: she was featured in the talent-search segment as an up-and-coming designer, having already impressed Gabriel Agreste and Jagged Stone with her work. When an advance copy arrived in the mail care of the editor, she had opened it with a thumping heart - then reeled back in terror.

There was the profile on her, in a narrow side-bar; and directly opposite it was a full-page picture of Ladybug and Chat Noir, accompanied by a write-up on "Paris' most fashionable heroic duo".

This was a disaster - they might as well have published side-by-side photos of her in and out of costume and asked their readers to spot the differences!

After a good solid hour's freak-out and an in-depth talking-to from Tikki, she finally managed to calm down. After all, people who knew her as Marinette saw her as Ladybug all the time, and no one had recognized her yet. She knew her parents only had eyes for 'their little girl', and probably wouldn't even glance at the heroine on the opposite page.

It was Alya she had to worry about.

The one thing that rivalled Alya's support for her best friend was her passion for all things Ladybug. If she ever discovered that her two favourite interests were one and the same, she would totally flip out - and with such blatant evidence in front of her, it might happen sooner rather than later. Alya could be impulsive and single-minded at times, but she certainly wasn't stupid! If she saw those two pages together, Marinette might as well kiss her secret identity goodbye.

But what could she do? It would be futile to try to dissuade Alya from looking at the magazine. Besides the fact that she would never miss her best friend's media debut, the article on Ladybug featured a link to the Ladyblog along with a glowing recommendation, so she would absolutely check out both stories for sure. Marinette couldn't nearly afford to buy up every copy of the magazine in Paris - even _Chloe_ probably didn't have that kind of wealth - and Alya would just read the online version anyway.

With no other options, she had resorted to something truly drastic.

On the day the magazine came out, it had been raining. Alya had taken off her glasses in the locker room and put them down, hunting about in her bag for something to wipe the raindrops off with. In a split-second moment of madness, Marinette had snatched them up and, after a hasty check to make sure no one was watching, hid them in her locker behind a case of sewing supplies. When Alya asked if she had seen her glasses anywhere, she had feigned ignorance, glad her best friend couldn't see the incriminating look on her face. She had dutifully led Alya around like the human equivalent of a seeing-eye dog for the rest of the week, trying not to let her own clumsiness knock them both over or lead them into walls. She knew it had been a stupid thing to do, and Tikki had reprimanded her for it afterwards; but she'd had no other choice.

She knew that it couldn't go on forever. She planned to miraculously 'find' Alya's glasses a week after they disappeared, when a new issue of _La Mode_ was out, and the previous one hopefully forgotten. It was the longest week of Marinette's life - and she had once spent five whole days hand-sewing a beaded purse for her mother's friend the had to be done in time for her daughter's wedding, while fending off no less than three akuma attacks, and being assigned to work on a class project with Chloe. Not all at the same time, thank goodness; that would have made this week only _marginally_ worse, instead of _a lot_ worse.

At least the ordeal was nearly over - for herself, and more importantly, for Alya. Just a few more days, and then everything would be back to normal.

Just a few more days, Adrien told himself, and then everything would be back to normal - for himself, and more importantly, for Nino.

It really shouldn't have been anything out of the ordinary. He was certainly no stranger to publicity; he saw doppelgangers of himself staring back out of billboards, from newsstands, and even on the sides of passing buses, practically every other day of the week. He hadn't even known that he would be in this week's issue of _La Mode_ \- at least, not as _himself_. He had managed to get an advance copy from his publicist's office after seeing the excited post on Alya's blog; though he had gotten it for the article on Ladybug and Chat Noir, he intended to read Marinette's feature while he was at it.

He had turned straight to the large-scale photo of himself, accidentally flipped one page too far - and froze in stupefied horror.

Directly after the article on Chat Noir was an advertisement for 'Gabriel au de Parfum', with a blown-up picture of his unmasked face. The pose and composition were near-identical to the overleaf shot of him with his Lady.

This was a _cat-astrophe_! If he thumbed the page back and forth fast enough, it was almost like a flip-animation of him transforming in and out of costume.

Plagg found it amusing; Adrien, not so much. Sure, he didn't really have too much cause for worry. His likeness was already plastered all over town (his publicist was _very_ good at her job) and Papillion hadn't yet burst through his bedroom window to demand his Miraculous. Alya might be a Ladybug fanatic, but it was doubtful she paid enough attention to Chat Noir and/or Adrien Agreste to notice the resemblance. The same went for Marinette; she would probably be too busy pouring over her own feature to even glance at the rest of the magazine.

Which just left Nino.

Besides being a stellar _best_ friend, Nino was also a stellar _boy_ friend. After listening to Alya rave about her blog's upcoming shout-out for weeks on end, he would be sure to read the article carefully, in case his girlfriend quizzed him on it. And while he didn't exactly study every single image of Adrien out there - he'd have his work cut out for him if he tried - the proximity of those two pictures was enough to pose a very real risk.

And so he'd hatched a plan. A foolhardy, impetuous plan that Ladybug would no doubt disapprove of, and which set Plagg muttering something about being paired with a dunce every time. Though Adrien's grades more than negated that criticism, in this case, he couldn't help but agree.

In gym class the day of the magazine's release, their basketball game got rained out. When Nino took off his glasses in order to change into a dry shirt, Adrien had snatched them up, stashing them in his locker behind his fencing gear. He lied about not having seen them, then spent the rest of the week using his cat-like reflexes to stop Nino from tripping down steps or walking in front of cars.

He felt terribly disloyal, but the means justified the end. Besides, it wasn't for much longer; just a few more days, and then Nino's glasses would 'miraculously' reappear. As far as Adrien was concerned, the day couldn't come fast enough - he had thought extra photo-shoots, boring corporate dinners, and surprise visits from Chloe were tedious enough to lengthen his week, but the past few days had seemed to stretch on into eternity.

At least it was nearly the weekend. Salvation was practically in sight - both literally and figuratively. Soon, everything would go back to normal.

* * *

The school bell rang. While the other students gratefully packed up their things and filed out of the room, Alya and Nino scrambled to finish their notes, Marinette and Adrien hovering ineffectually beside them. They stopped abruptly when Ms Bustier slapped a sheet of paper down on both their desks at the same time.

"I photocopied the course material," she said, in a wry tone. "While I was at it, I enlarged the type. Don't bother re-copying it, unless it helps you memorize. Just add it to your binders and look it over before revision next week."

Nino and Alya beamed in the vague direction of her voice. "Thanks, ma'am!"

"Don't mention it." She smiled back, then regarded them sternly. "However, please don't come to class without any glasses on Monday morning. I know you didn't purposefully lose them, but this past week has been difficult for everyone; besides taking a toll on the pair of you, it has been highly disruptive for the rest of the class. Either try to find your original glasses over the weekend, or see about getting replacements as soon as possible."

Once again acting perfectly in sync, Alya and Nino sheepishly lowered their eyes. "Yes, ma'am."

With a satisfied nod, Ms Bustier walked back towards her desk. As she passed, she spared a glance at Adrien and Marinette. "Thanks so much for helping out your friends, you two. I hope it hasn't kept you from doing your own work."

"No, ma'am." Neither of them noticed that, just like their friends, they spoke in perfect unison - not even Marinette. She and Adrien were too preoccupied with their own thoughts.

It was only for a few days more. At least it was the weekend; that should make things easier.

* * *

"You have _got_ to be _KIDDING_ me! You _god_ _damn_ piece of-"

It was lucky Alya's younger sisters were out with their parents; she would have been in serious trouble if her siblings had been even remotely within earshot of such language.

The only person in hearing distance was Marinette. The delicate macaroon she was holding slipped through her fingers and landed on the plate she had been filling, where it broke into countless tiny pieces. She paid no heed; hastily dusting stray crumbs from her hands, she took off at a jog, following the steady stream of expletives coming from her best friend's room. Tikki, who had been discreetly snacking on a macaroon of her own underneath the bench, phased into her purse when she was already halfway down the hall. She reached the bedroom door to find Alya still swearing prolifically, her head clutched in her hands.

"What's wrong?" Marinette asked, with a heavy sense of foreboding.

Alya spun round in the desk chair, turning to face her general direction. "What's _wrong_?!" she bellowed back, as if she was hard of hearing as well as nearly blind. "What's _wrong_ is that I just accidentally _deleted_ the final draft of my blog post! I was getting rid of the previous version so I didn't get them mixed up, and I picked the wrong _bloody_ file! I spent _hours_ working on that, searching through archived footage, writing, revising, formatting the damn thing - it took me _ages_! There's no way I can redo it in time for the update I promised my followers!"

Marinette looked at her feet, mentally digging a hole for herself in the carpet with the toe of her shoe. "Sorry," she murmured.

"You _should_ be sorry!" Alya hollered at her, to her great surprise and alarm. "If you hadn't stolen my glasses in the first place, this never would have happened! I mean, did you _really_ think it would stop me from finding out that you're Ladybug? As if I didn't already know! Sure, the magazine did spell it out pretty obviously, but it's nothing compared to your previous blunders. I mean, your history book, honestly! As if the first thing I'd do when I found it wouldn't be to look at the flyleaf in case there was a name on it! You're so lucky that when you didn't bring it up at the Louvre despite me giving you every opportunity, I assumed I was mistaken. I must have been in shock; how else could I have convinced myself that _Chloe_ was Ladybug? And then I got akumatized, and I felt _horrible_ for fighting you, and Papillion could have found out who you are from reading my mind, if he's able to do that - luck really must be one of your superpowers! Ever since then, I was pretty sure it was you. I've been covering for you for months, you know. Several times now I've warned you that your earrings were about to run out, distracted reporters from following you, deliberately ignored all the times you talked into your purse, resisted the urge to peek at magick-y glows coming from behind pillars. I led Nino away from you at the zoo so you could transform, and how did you thank me? By locking me in a cage! And yet I didn't get my revenge by pointing out that your phone had no slime on it when you pretended to get taken by Horrificator, that would've been unfair. I could go on, but-"

She stopped, frustration turning into worry for the first time. "Uh, Mari? Are you there? I can't really see you, so, um... say something if you're still here? Hello...? Marinette, are y-"

She was answered by a muffled thud, as something dropped heavily onto the soft rug at the centre of the room.

Marinette had just keeled over backwards in a dead faint.

* * *

Adrien was rifling through Nino's CD collection, looking for something particularly embarrassing to play. The boys had planned to watch a movie, but since Nino was without his glasses, that was a no-go (seriously, he hadn't thought his 'plan' through at all!). Instead, they were going to listen to music together at Nino's place. The aspiring DJ had offered to educate Adrien on popular tunes, since he didn't really know anything other than classical pieces. With Nino unable to read the album covers, he was going to put on random CD's and challenge his friend to recognize them by sound. He flipped through another rack of discs. Since none of them seemed humiliating enough - at least he didn't think so, he had no idea who any of these bands were - he was considering streaming The Spice Girls on his phone - even _he_ knew who they were! After the miserable week Nino had been through, he wanted to make him laugh as much as possible, it was the very least he could-

A yell that sounded something like 'argh!' echoed down the hall, immediately followed by a loud thud. It was akin to a Charlie Brown cartoon, yet Adrien wasn't laughing. He got up from where he had been kneeling in front of the shelf and raced out into the hallway. Halfway along it, he looked down to find Plagg's curious head poking out of his pocket; he quickly shoved him back out of sight, though there was no real need.

There were two small steps leading up from the Lahiffe's kitchen to the living area. Despite tackling them every other day without incident, Nino had managed to trip up them, landing sprawled on his face. Two bottles of juice, a large bowl, and a scattering of popcorn were arranged around him, like items at a crime scene; the only thing missing was the chalk outline. Despite Adrien's request for a 'healthy' snack that wouldn't bring the ire of his nutritionist down on them, it appeared Nino had slathered the popcorn with butter, to the detriment of the carpet.

It would've been funny, if Adrien wasn't so concerned for him - especially since he was the indirect author of this mishap. Luckily, nothing appeared to be broken. Hoisting himself up with a groan, Nino clambered onto his hands and knees, unwittingly crushing more popcorn into the hall rug.

"Are you okay?" Adrien asked, trying and failing to not sound guilt-ridden.

"No I'm not," Nino snapped, dusting greasy fragments from his clothes. "Man, this is getting ridiculous! Can you _please_ hurry up and give me back my glasses? Unlike you, some of us don't always land on our feet!"

"Wha...?" Adrien took an involuntary step back, sneakers crunching loudly.

"Yeah, I know you're Chat Noir. Dude, did you really think taking my glasses would keep me from finding out? Anyone with a pair of eyes could figure it out! I already know, so if you want a blind friend, you should chum up with Daredevil instead - though I'm sure _he'd_ work it out after hearing just a few of your jokes! Seriously, even your _best_ ones are still pretty-"

He stopped, squinting in front of him; his manner changed from annoyance to confusion."Uh, dude? Is that you? You've been looking like a blurry blob all week, but now you're a very _pale_ blob. Uh, Adrien? Buddy...?"

Adrien could not answer. He was frozen in mute shock.

* * *

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know she would-"

"It's alright, don't worry, what's done is done. Here, put this under her head."

"What is this? A cushion...?"

"I think it's the arm rest that goes with your keyboard. Marinette has one just like it."

"Yeah, she made it for me. Oh god, if she's hurt because of me-"

"Calm down, Alya! Put it behind her head, it's just the right shape to support her neck. I'm too small to lift her, so..."

"Oh. Oh, right, sure. Is she alright? She didn't hit her head, did she? Are you sure she's breathing? Should we-"

"It's fine, just keep calm. I think she's starting to come round. Marinette...? Can you hear me?"

Marinette could feel fuzzy carpet beneath her hands, and a dimpled roll of foam behind her head. She opened bleary eyes, gradually focusing on the two faces that hovered over her. Tikki was floating close in front of her; she marvelled at how her head looked almost the same size as Alya's from this perspective, it was-

" _Gah_!"

She shot up into a sitting position with a shriek, nearly collecting Tikki on her forehead in the process. Fighting back a bout of dizziness, she snatched the kwami and shielded her from view with her hands. "Look out, Alya, it's a giant crimson-dotted-stinger-wasp! Keep away, it's dangerous! I'll release it out the window, so just stay back while I-"

She trailed off when she saw the bemused look Alya was aiming roughly her way. "Give it up, girl - you've already been spotted!"

Tikki giggled between her palms; with a sigh, Marinette released her. Alya instantly leaned forward, straining to look at her.

"Uh, sorry about before... um... you knew my name, but I don't-"

"Tikki," the kwami supplied.

"Uh, yeah, thanks for before, Tikki. If you don't mind me asking... what _are_ you? I can't really see you, but you're small and red, and you seem to be kind of... glowing."

"I'm a kwami," Tikki patiently explained. The whole scenario reminded Marinette vividly of how she had first found her earrings. "I give Marinette the powers that make her Ladybug."

Alya's face broke into an ecstatic grin. "Ohmigod, this is so awesome! I've been waiting for this opportunity for so long, I have so many questions! First off: what _is_ a kwami? Are you the lone survivor of an alien race? A wish-granting fairy-godmother? A magical pet familiar?"

Tikki giggled at the onslaught of questions. "The last one is probably closest. I've been companion to Ladybugs throughout history, helping them realize their full potential as heroes and protectors."

Alya snapped her fingers. "So _you're_ the one who's five-thousand years old! I thought it odd that this girl here was supposed to be ancient, yet she doesn't have a single grey hair!"

With the attention back on her, Marinette shifted nervously. "Alya, I'm sorry I-"

"Don't bother apologizing," Alya broke in before she could go on. "I'm already fine with it. It's, like, Superheroing 101 that you can't tell anyone about your secret identity. It's a trope, but a necessary trope, and I totally understand why you kept it from me - even if you didn't keep it very well."

Marinette laughed sheepishly. "Uh, yeah. Guess it was sort of obvious...?"

"Well, the fact that you kept the same hairstyle didn't help - there aren't too many pig-tailed girls who can stand up to Chloe around the place! And the history book really sealed it. Even then I was still in denial, until I saw you next to yourself when Chronogirl attacked, I don't know how nobody else noticed it-"

"You must have already seen past the glamour," Tikki mused out loud.

"I did? That is so _awesome_! Is it some kind of magic spell? A function of the suit? Are the earrings some sort of-"

"You're really enjoying this," Marinette weakly complained. She hadn't really coped with everything that had just happened; her head was still spinning, and her knees felt like jelly.

"Of course I am! Do you have _any_ idea how long I've been wanting to talk to you like this?" Alya gripped the arms of her chair, suddenly pensive. "It's been so _hard_ to watch you go off to fight every time there's an akuma, and not even be able to say 'take care' or 'thank you for saving us' or 'do you have any idea how amazing you are'. Why do you think I've been trying to catch it all on film? I've been _dreaming_ of the day when we could go over all this together! I understand why you weren't able to share it with me, but... I hoped that you might eventually trust me enough to-"

Marinette swooped on her, enveloping her in a hug. Unable to see it coming, Alya was nearly knocked off her feet.

"I'm sorry! It was hard for me too. I thought about telling you any number of times, but... I just wanted to keep you _safe_."

Alya patted her back comfortingly. "Heh, I know how it is," she quipped. "Chat Noir is obviously your best friend over me. Just because _he_ has a Miraculous and a self-extending staff and magical powers and a cute little bell-"

"No, it's not like that," Marinette countered. "I didn't tell him either; only you and Tikki know, so please don't-"

"Wait - he doesn't _know who you are_?!" Alya gaped at her in genuine surprise. "But then how can he be your partner? How does he contact you when there's no akuma around? How do _you_ contact _him_?"

"I don't, he doesn't, and we've managed so far. It was my rule; if Papillion gets to one of us-"

"I guess I understand that, but... does this mean you've been keeping it to yourself all this time?"

"Myself and Tikki," Marinette corrected.

"She's been _very_ concerned about exposing the people around her to any kind of danger," Tikki explained.

Alya shook her head, giving her friend as extra-tight squeeze. "You poor thing, dealing with this on your own all this time! And here I thought you were keeping Chat Noir to yourself because he's even more ridiculously handsome than Adrien under the mask."

Marinette scoffed; drawing back out of the hug, she placed her hands on her hips. "He may _claim_ his looks would make me swoon if he ever revealed his face to me, but the only thing that makes me feel faint is his weak sense of humour."

Alya was beaming at the wall behind her. "It really _is_ you! If only I could properly see you in your sassy pose, that would prove it once and for all."

Marinette wrung her hands. "Yeah, um, sorry about that. I was going to give your glasses back-"

"-when I was no longer your best friend and your number-one fan? Only when hell freezes over - and I can't wait that long! Can I _please_ have them back now?"

"Right _now_? They're at school, and it's locked up on-"

"Mari, in case you have forgotten: _you are freaking Ladybug!_ A lock on a school gate is nothing compared to the worst akuma Papillion can dream up!"

"B-but, I'm not supposed to use my powers for-"

"I think we can make an exception for Alya," Tikki interrupted. "She's earned it."

"You bet I have!" Alya wholeheartedly agreed. "Besides, didn't you use your powers to steal Adrien's phone?"

Marinette blushed; now was _not_ the time to confess how she had once used Lucky Charm to stop her crush from slow-dancing with Chloe! "I did that without any powers, but I won't be able to manage it this time. I'll have to-"

Alya scooted a bit closer. "Are you going to _transform?!_ Oh gosh, I would love to see-"

"You will," Marinette promised. Much as she worried about the scrapes this knowledge could possibly land Alya in, it was more than a little gratifying to be able to openly accept her best friend's adoration like this. "As soon as I get back - and Tikki has had some cookies - I'll transform just to show you."

Alya looked both confused and enthralled. "Are cookies part of the magic?"

Tikki chuckled. "The very best part!" She turned to a still dazed-looking Marinette with a reassuring smile. "Ready when you are!"

Marinette nodded; from the way Alya was peering desperately in her direction with bated breath, she was ready too - as ready as she _could_ be without her glasses. "Tikki, transform me!"

A minute later, having managed to stem - or at least postpone - Alya's barrage of rapid-fire questions, Ladybug swung out of the bedroom window, heading toward Francoise-Dupont College.

* * *

"I think I broke him."

Nino peered concernedly at Adrien, little good that it did. Plagg looked over his shoulder with something akin to professional interest.

"Nah, I'd say his brain already had a few screws loose; you just made it stall." He floated up close to Adrien's face, waving his paws in front of glazed green eyes. "Hey, you can relax now! The cat's out of the bag!"

Adrien stirred. " _I_ wanted to say that," he was amazed to hear himself complain.

Nino spluttered. "I would recognize that sense of humour _anywhere_!"

"You were quicker on the uptake than I thought you'd be," Plagg purred approvingly. Adrien was pretty sure this situation could not get any more surreal - Plagg, giving _compliments?!_

Nino turned to face Plagg's vicinity. "Speaking of which... what _are_ you, exactly? I can't see you very well, but you're apparently small, black, and able to fly."

Plagg frowned, disappointed that Nino couldn't admire him in full. "I'm a kwami. I give Chat Noir his powers, keep him in line, and am generally the brains of the outfit."

"More like the stomach," Adrien retorted, managing to return to some semblance of his normal self.

"Hey, troops cannot march on one wheel of camembert alone."

"You eat enough for an entire army!"

Nino slapped his forehead. "Man, is _that_ why your bag always smells like sweaty socks!"

Adrien shot Plagg a glare; the kwami sadly shook his head. "Philistines, the pair of you!"

"I thought he was Chat Noir," Nino joked. Adrien regarded him guiltily.

"How long have you known...?"

"Dude, it wasn't exactly hard to figure out! Blond-haired new guy turns up in our class minutes before an akuma appears; moments later, blond-haired superhero is chasing said akuma towards the Eiffel Tower. How else could you get there so quickly - Ladybug turned up ages after you! I still kind of doubted it, until I got to know you better. I see more of you than most people - granted, the general public _does_ see quite a lot of you - and after seeing that face every day in class, I'd be stupid not to recognize it when it crops up on the news. That little mask of yours hides squat."

Plagg gave a huff, apparently taking this as a personal insult against his transformative powers. Nino went on without noticing."With all the different outfits you wear on shoots, the Chat Noir costume is just another set of clothes. A pretty outlandish set of clothes-" Plagg looked daggers at him"-but still. And then I saw you take on Dark Knight and you did that fencing move you always do, that one where you kind of lunge forward-"

"A riposte?"

"Yeah, that! After I saw you do that as both Adrien and Chat Noir, it was pretty obvious. It's a wonder Papillion hasn't already spotted one of your billboards and swooped through your window while you're asleep!" When this remark met only silence, Nino tilted his head to one side, listening intently. "Are you freaking out again, dude? Relax, I don't think anyone else has worked it out - I know Alya hasn't, and if anyone would, it'd be her! Hey, we're bros - I know you better than anyone, so of _course_ I'd be the one to notice!" He groped about in empty air for a moment, managing to clap Adrien on the shoulder on the fourth attempt. "Your secret's safe with me. I can finally tell you how super cool you are - I mean _dude_ , you're a supermodel _and_ a superhero! That is _so awesome_!"

Adrien slung his arm round his best friend, sure that his valuable cheekbones were stretched beyond repair by the broad smile on his face. "You're the c _law_ somest, Nino! Why didn't you tell me that you knew?"

"I was waiting for you to bring it up. I wish I'd said something sooner; perhaps then you wouldn't have pulled a stupid stunt like this." Nino pointed at his face, and the glasses that weren't on it.

Adrien chuckled uneasily. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that."

"I _told_ you it was a stupid idea," Plagg muttered.

Before Adrien could reply, Nino said pointedly, "It would be a _very_ stupid idea not to give them back immediately, if you catch my drift."

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, sure. I have to go get them from school, so just sit tight, I'll be back with them right away."

"Want me to mind your pet for you while you're gone?"

"I'm not a pet!" Plagg exclaimed, sounding scandalized.

Adrien laughed. "Nah, I need him. Since the school will be locked up, Adrien isn't going - Chat Noir is."

Nino suddenly looked hopeful. "Are you going to Cataclysm the school?"

"Of course not!"

"Not even a little bit? Not even, like, the storeroom where Bustier keeps her test papers?"

"Hey, super-heroing is a serious business! Cataclysm is not something to mess around with, and definitely not to be used for frivolous reasons."

"It's not frivolous - I'm sure I'm gonna fail the literature review on Monday! Besides, you're the one sending Chat Noir to break into the student locker room for a pair of specs."

"Touché," Adrien conceded. "Actually, the real reason I can't Cataclysm anything is that Ladybug isn't here to fix it - not to mention she would kill me if she found out what I did."

Nino shot him a sly look. "Hey, if I didn't already have an incredibly scary girlfriend, I'd ask you to introduce me to her!"

Adrien scoffed. "As if I could do that without telling her that my secret identity was compromised - she'd clobber me with her yoyo if she knew!"

"She's strict about not letting people find out?"

"You bet; even _we_ don't know who the other is. No one knows except you and Plagg, so-"

Nino gaped at him. "Whoa - she doesn't _know?_! And you don't know who _she_ is either? No wonder you always have that dopey, lovelorn look on your face behind the mask."

" _What_ look?" Adrien asked, trying to ignore Plagg's malicious chuckle.

"The one you're probably wearing right now."

"How do you know what my face is doing?"

"I don't." Nino made a shooing gesture at him. "So hurry up and get my glasses so I don't have to guess!"

"Okay, okay. Plagg, transform me!"

Even Nino was able to see the flash of green light that accompanied these words. After promising to let him see his transformation properly later on - and voicing a request for camembert when he got back - Chat Noir leapt through his best friend's livingroom window. Vaulting over the rooftops, he made his way toward Francoise-Dupont College.

* * *

The school grounds were locked up for the weekend. It wasn't like anyone could just waltz in through the front gates - not even superheroes.

Ladybug scaled the rooftop, lowering herself down into the main quadrangle. Avoiding the cameras dotted at strategic points around the building, she made it to the door of the locker room, only to find it securely shut. She was about to use Lucky Charm to give her a lock pick - or, hopefully, something similar - when she noticed one of the windows onto the hallway was ajar, managing to scramble through it with something resembling her usual grace. Now all she had to do was grope her way to the right locker without tripping in the dark, blindly enter her locker combination, retrieve Alya's glasses, and get out of here. All in a day's work.

Chat Noir brought up blueprints on his staff's flip-out screen, finding an air vent that led directly from the side of the building to the locker room. It was ideal for avoiding the school's surveillance cameras, and gave him an excuse to use his suit's night vision. Finding a grate over the vent's exit into the locker room, he was about to Cataclysm it - Nino's wish might come true after all - when he pushed it and found that it swung open almost noiselessly. Maybe Ivan and Mylene regularly used this space to hide away for make-out sessions? He'd have to ask Nino if he and Alya were the culprits, smirking at the prospect. All in good time; for now, he just had to get to his locker, grab the glasses, and leave the way he'd come. No paw-blem.

When two combination locks clicked simultaneously, they passed it off as a weird echo, or a figment of their overactive nerves. When two locker doors creaked loudly in the otherwise silent room, there could be no denying it; they froze in place, slowly turning towards each other in tandem.

Ladybug could just barely make out a familiar silhouette between her and the light from the windows, a pair of glasses clutched in one clawed hand. But what _really_ arrested her attention was the spot the shadowy figure stood on. She _knew_ that patch of ground, had memorized its location, knew it exactly by heart, practically worshipped it as a floor-level shrine - that was the location of _Adrien's locker_. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could see a white set of fencing gear neatly folded on the locker's top shelf, in stark contrast to Chat Noir's dark suit. But what was _Chat_ doing here? How had he opened Adrien's locker? _Why_ had he opened Adrien's locker? And why did he have a pair of glasses that looked just like Nino's? Come to think of it, hadn't Nino lost his glasses around the same time as she had taken Alya's? Ha, it was almost like he could be- no, wait, that wasn't... surely it was impossible, but it was almost like he was...

Even though his night vision didn't allow him to see in any colour besides neon-green, Chat Noir instantly recognized Ladybug's red-suited figure standing opposite him. Besides the sheer unlikeliness of her being here, what amazed him was the open locker behind her. On the top shelf, he could see a spotted case, which he might have passed off as Ladybug-themed, if it weren't for the floral embroidery on it that was _Marinette's signature pattern_. Sure, he had long suspected that Ladybug and Marinette knew each other (the Evilstrator incident stood out in his mind), but why would she be- wait, were those _Alya's_ glasses in her hand? He'd thought it was a funny coincidence that Alya had lost her glasses at the same time as Nino - convenient for him, definitely - but... it seemed incredible, but did this mean she was...

The pair stood staring at each other, neither of them speaking, moving, so much as _blinking_. They were too busy trying to process the unthinkable, with brains that were on the verge of crashing at any moment.

They might have remained like that indefinitely, if it weren't for a sound beyond the doorway to the locker room: a pair of footsteps, approaching rapidly.

They both stirred, moving on pure instinct. They were amazed to find themselves suddenly side by side, having automatically moved to cover the other's back, just like they normally would. They gaped at each other dumbfoundedly for a moment, then focused on the unknown presence outside the door. Getting out through the quadrangle was not an option, and scrambling through the air vent would make too much noise - they needed to get out both swiftly _and_ silently.

Somehow, Ladybug managed to find her voice, though it was barely loud enough to be called a whisper. "Can you make us an exit?"

Chat Noir jolted, as if he had been given an electric shock. Turning to look at the opposite wall of the room, he remotely marvelled that not one but _two_ of his classmates had asked him to Cataclysm the school that afternoon. Because Marinette was his classmate, and she was - Ladybug was - they were -

"S-sure." Murmuring as loud as he dared, he uttered "Cataclysm!"

A moment later, he had swiped his hand across the wall, opening a doorway in the brick for them. He watched Ladybug step through it ahead of him, feeling strangely like he was outside of himself. Blinking as his visor abruptly disengaged its night-vision in the bright sunlight, he turned to find the hole in the wall still gaping at him.

"Can you fix-?"

Normally, Ladybug would take exception to Chat Noir questioning her ability; standard procedure would be to deliver a swift put-down, with a bop on his nose for good measure. However, at this moment Marinette was struggling not to hyperventilate over the fact that she had _touched Adrien Agreste's nose repeatedly!_ And _thrown him off a rooftop!_ And _clung_ to him as he _carried_ her! And _been hugged_ by him! And _flirted_ with him! And _kissed-_

Reasserting her Ladybug self with a huge effort, she tried to focus on the here and now. And right now, Chat Noir - _Adrien_ \- Chat - _Adrien!_ \- was looking at her expectantly. Oh yeah, he'd asked her to fix the wall he'd just Cataclysmed. They would have a hard time explaining it if the gaping hole was still there on Monday morning!

"I think I can," she murmured, with uncharacteristic doubt. She suddenly felt more like Marinette than Ladybug. Which made sense, since _Adrien_ was next to her, and Adrien always made _Marinette_ feel and act like-

She made a valiant effort to pull herself together. " I _hope_ I can," she managed this time. Taking a deep breath - praying she would manage to not hit herself on the head, or him on the head - _how many times had she nearly concussed Adrien!_ \- she hurled her yoyo upward. "Lucky Charm!"

A lint-proof cloth dropped into her hand. "Oh. I... guess that makes sense." Looking at the pair of glasses in her hand as if she had only just remembered their existence, she wiped the lenses with the cloth, being as thorough as haste would allow.

"Here, use this-" She went to hand the cloth to Chat Noir, then froze, remembering that _he was Adrien!_

Chat Noir gingerly took the cloth, being just as careful to avoid touching her hand as he was not to snag his claws in the cloth. He could recognize _Marinette_ beneath the mask now, those were her mannerisms, and this was... _odd_. "Will it only work if the Lucky Charm is useful?" he asked, polishing Nino's glasses as quick as he could without scratching them. Was that the sound of the door knob turning...?

"I don't know, but I'm not taking any chances." Having to focus on the task in front of her was a blessing. Ladybug deftly caught the cloth he tossed back to her, threw it in the air, and said: "Miraculous Ladybug!"

The wall was enveloped in a flickering beam of rosy light; when it cleared, it was whole again. Both heroes breathed a sigh of relief.

"Bien joué!"

The motion was entirely habitual; they did it without thinking. It was only after their fists connected that the events of the past few minutes came rushing back to them. They froze for a moment, surveyed each other with wide eyes, then gave startled yelps and hastily pulled their hands away.

Chat Noir was in a state of bewilderment. How else, with everything rushing through his mind, could he focus, of all things, on the fact that Plagg wasn't here to spoil his moment this time? With a shaky grin at the girl beside him, he said: "Uh, I guess the cat is out of the bag...?"

In response, Ladybug made an 'eep' sound that was so like Mariette, there was no room left for any doubt.

* * *

Alya and Nino could not stop laughing.

Ladybug and Chat Noir had stood gaping at each other in the alley behind the school, until their beeping Miraculous finally snapped them out of it. Hastily making stammered excuses, they had each dashed back to their respective best friends' place; the first sight that had met Alya's and Nino's eyes after getting their glasses back had been a panicking superhero. Having convinced them to change back to their civilian identity - marveling at the whoosh of magical energy all the while - they had been presented with the impossible task of getting a coherent account. When this inevitably failed, they had been forced to turn to the kwamis for a meaningful explanation. Tikki hemmed and hawed a lot, Plagg a little; but with all the reveals that had already taken place, it was hardly worth keeping up any more attempts at secrecy. After a few minutes of frantically trying to call each other and finding the line busy, Alya and Nino finally managed to get through to each other, drowned each other out in a tirade of incredulous shouts, and finally agreed to drag the shell-shocked superheroes to the park. As soon as they set eyes on each other, the hilarity of it all set in, and they had collapsed on a park bench in fits of giggles, a state in which they had remained ever since.

That had been almost ten minutes ago, and they were _still_ laughing. Though they should be able to see again now that they had their glasses back, they were instead blinded by tears as they lolled helplessly, leaning heavily on each other and gasping for breath between guffaws. Marinette and Adrien stood in front of them, alternately grimacing at their best friends' reactions and avoiding looking at each other, waiting for the laughter to subside. It was a long time coming.

Marinette sighed. "It's really not that fun-" she began to say.

"Yes it is!" Alya howled over the top of her, clutching her aching sides.

Adrien folded his arms, trying to look stern. "You wouldn't think so if y-"

"This could only happen to you two!" Nino declared, nudging Alya's shoulder with his own; she slapped him on the back, and they both started chuckling all over again.

Adrien and Marinette finally managed to look directly at each other, if only to exchange exasperated glances.

"Try to see it from our point of view," Marinette reasoned. "We only just found out th-"

"You're both so oblivious!" Nino chortled.

"It's been quite a shock for us," Adrien said, his protective side coming out as he backed up his Lady. "Can you imagine how-"

"It's almost unbelievable!" Alya all but shrieked.

Suddenly inspired, Nino nudged her again. "It's incredible!'

"Phenomenal!"

"Astounding!"

"Fantastic!"

"Miraculous!" they both shouted, falling all over each other yet again. Marinette and Adrien huffed in unison, only to spy each other struggling to hide half-smiles.

Plagg leaned out of Adrien's pocket. "You've got to admit, it _is_ pretty hysterical."

Tikki peeped out of Marinette's purse. "Not as ridiculous as the first time it happened, but still..."

Plagg chortled happily. "Five thousand years on, and the joke still hasn't gotten old!"

"This happens often?" Nino asked, wiping tears from his eyes. He did a double-take when his gaze passed over Marinette's purse. "Wait, so... you're a kwami too?"

"And you must be Chat- I mean, _Adrien's_ kwami," Alya said, peering at Plagg, who puffed up importantly - only to deflate a moment later. "All this magic stuff is so _cute_!"

"We really owe you both explanations," Marinette said, channeling Ladybug's purposefulness - faced with the situation, it was about all she could do to deal with it. "In fact, we owe you so much more besides that."

"We couldn't have managed all that we've done without you," Adrien chimed in, taking up her theme. "And we can't thank you enough for covering for us. You really-"

"Can you believe them?" Nino interjected with another laugh, slinging his arm around an ecstatically-beaming Alya. "No clue who she was until a few minutes ago, and now my dude is finishing his lady's sentences like it's nothing."

Both of them blushed; Marinette flushed a brighter shade of red as Alya regarded her with a conniving smile. "Pretty romantic, isn't it? How seamlessly they fit together, as if they were destined to be partners; like they've spent most of their lives pining after their long-lost soul m-"

Adrien and Marinette faced away from each other in mortification, making their so-called 'best friends' cackle even louder.

"Well, with all this madness, I nearly forgot that I have a blog to re-do," Alya said, finally returning to some fit state of composure. "Come on, Nino, I could use your help."

"What are you talking about? You know how to retrieve a deleted blog draft even better than I do, it's easy as- ow!" Nino rubbed the ribs Alya had just jabbed, comprehension dawning on his face. "Oh, yeah, sure! Shall we go now?"

"Yep." Alya gazed at their friends slyly, ignoring Marinette's pleading look. "We'll leave you two to talk among yourselves, you must have quite a lot to discuss. But we're holding you to those explanations later - and I still wanna see a transformation!"

"Play nicely, kids," Nino said, giving his indignant best friend an infuriating wink. "Don't do anything we wouldn't do!" With that, the pair sauntered off together, hand in hand.

Adrien and Marinette simply stood and watched them walk away for several long moments. Then Adrien nervously cleared his throat. "So, uh, I guess they're right, we should, um, probably talk. Do you want to stay here, or...?"

Trying to drown out a mind that was insistently screaming that it couldn't deal with all of this, Marinette took a deep breath. She was relieved to find that when she managed to summon up her voice, it didn't come out as a squeak. In fact, she _almost_ sounded like Ladybug.

"Let's go somewhere away from prying eyes."

Adrien blinked at her in surprise; Marinette was amazed, and strangely comforted, to find that the gesture was instantly familiar to her. Looking across the park after Nino and Alya, who were leaning towards each other and whispering excitedly, he smiled his signature canary-eating grin. "Good plan."

It was then that they knew that they would both be okay, if only to spite - and with the support of - their best friends.

* * *

Bonus ending:

They ended up going back to the school. They knew the college was shut up for the weekend and practically deserted; they had a lot to discuss that they didn't want overheard.

Sitting on the front steps, they started off haltingly. Both of them were too shocked, and feeling too shy, to start by saying anything much. Gradually, that began to change. It was a relief to Adrien that his Lady wasn't angry at him for letting Nino find out; likewise, Marinette was amazed that he didn't seem at all disappointed that an ordinary girl like her was his Buginette. Things got easier from there, as they began swapping stories and sharing common experiences. The funny side of it finally started to dawn on them: how oblivious they had both been, while their friends had been so much savvier; how incredible it was that they had had the exact same glasses-thieving idea, with the exact same result; how, in the midst of the previous week's craziness, neither of them had taken the time to actually read the magazine that had caused all this in the first place, thus staving off a reveal of their own for a few extra days.

Soon, they were both reeling about with laughter, much like their friends had done. Then, as Marinette's cheek rested on his shoulder and Adrien's hand brush against hers, that reeling turned into leaning, their faces steadily moving closer, gazing into each other's eyes, their lips a mere breath apart-

"Is there an akuma?"

They jumped apart as this unexpected question came from behind them. They turned to find Ms Mendoleiev standing at the school gate, a bunch of keys in her hand, a stack of graded papers dropped on the ground near her feet.

"I'm sorry," she said; for the first time _ever_ since they had been taught by her, she actually looked a little flustered. "I didn't mean to interrupt, I just stayed back to do some marking, and when I saw the pair of you here on the weekend, I assumed there must be an akuma. If there's no cause for distress, I'm glad - you two have already done more than enough for this city. I've never been so willing to let students out of class than I have been you pair! Of course I've had to report some of your truancies from this past week to admin - it would look suspicious if I didn't - but being as lenient as possible in that department is the least I can do for Paris' favourite heroes."

She paused, looking apologetically at their startled faces over the rims of her glasses. "I'm, uh, sorry for finding out. It was a complete accident; you see, I confiscated a magazine from one of my classes, and there were pictures in it of the pair of you with and without your masks, and I couldn't help but notice..."

Adrien leaned his head back against the wall with a groan. "We should have stolen her glasses as well."

Marinette, who had slumped forward low enough to drop her forehead onto her knees, only whimpered in reply.

* * *

Extra bonus ending:

Chat Noir crouched on the rooftop, concealed behind the base of a chimney. He stared across the road at the window of a large mansion, where a man's sharp profile stood out in stark relief. If he kept a careful surveillance, he might spy a chance to-

"Don't do it, Chaton."

Chat Noir looked up to find Ladybug perched atop the chimney, surveying him from her vantage point.

"Don't do what?" he asked, his innocent expression betrayed by his cheeky grin.

She gave him a withering look. "Don't do it," she repeated, "it won't work. Just look at what happened last time you stole a pair of glasses."

Chat grimaced. The incident from almost a week ago was still fresh in his mind; he was still getting used to the fact that Nino, Alya, and Ms Mendoleiev all knew who he was. And Marinette, of course. He couldn't exactly say he was sorry about it - though the situation before him now was entirely different.

"He said he was thinking of revising the perfume ad," he said, fidgeting on the spot; he was itching to leap across the street. "If he looks closely at that magazine-"

"If you take his glasses," Ladybug interjected, "he will just buy a new pair. Or design a whole new range of eye-wear, which would help him out, but not you." She sprung down from her perch, landing lightly beside him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. If he hasn't already noticed, he's not likely to notice something as slight as this."

Chat Noir slumped against the slope of the roof, knowing he was brooding but unable to resist doing it. "Perhaps I just want to believe that he might pay enough attention to me to notice this."

She turned his face towards her with a gentle hand, running her thumb over the edge of his mask and across his cheek. "I know for sure that he loves you in his own way, Adrien; he is your _father_ , after all. He's just... not very demonstrative about it. And you know that Nino, Alya and I are always here, noticing what you do. You have us all watching over you, Minou, and you always make us proud."

He smiled at her words, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to it. "Thanks, Marinette. Would you like to watch me beat you to the Eiffel Tower?" he added, with a return of his trademark smirk.

Ladybug freed her hand; though her face was slightly flushed, it didn't stop her from giving him her customary bop on the nose. "If I recall rightly, last time you were a sight for sore eyes, and in a backward glance at that - you were trailing far behind me!"

He waggled his eyebrows playfully at her. "This time, I'll pass you in the blink of an eye!"

She gave him the competitive look he remembered seeing on Marinette when she had a game controller in her hand. "I'll believe it when I see it!" she scoffed, laughing as she swung off the roof.

He somersaulted after her with an exultant whoop. Win or lose, he knew that his prize would be the best view in all the world: the sight of his stunning Buginette, against the almost-equally-gorgeous backdrop of Paris' glittering skyline.

Gabriel Agreste didn't notice their departure. He didn't so much as glance at the opposite rooftop through the window of his home office. He was too busy gazing raptly at the magazine in front of him. Pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, he stared down at the open spread, turned a page, flipped it back again... and smiled thinly to himself.

He had been so blind. All along, the cat Miraculous had been so close within his grasp; and the ladybug Miraculous wasn't much further away...

* * *

 _Author's note: to be continued (not!) Sorry, a few of people have requested that the 'Book' chapter be expanded into a longer story, but I'd like to keep this as a series of one-shots. Besides, I really don't have anything to add to what I've already got here._

 _I wanted to play with the whole 'best friends knew all along' scenario. It was tricky, since Alya and Nino couldn't know who they were when they got akumatized, otherwise Papillion might have been able to find out through them. I've been chatting to other writers, and one pointed out that Alya mistook Chloe for Ladybug, despite presumably having already seen Ladybug rescue Chloe from Stoneheart. This was the only explanation I could come up with - to be fair, if I'd just discovered that someone close to me was a super-powered hero, I'd probably have a shock-addled brain-lapse as well!_

 _This is nothing to do with anything, but just because I want to share: I looked up the other work that the French voice actors have previously done, and omigod - Anouck Hautbois voices the French version of Usagi in the new Sailor Moon series! She even says 'transformez moi' the exact same way as when she'd playing Marinette - I so want her to call Luna a 'chat noir' at some point! And Benjamin Bollen is the French voice of Tintin in the movie - there's a bit near the beginning where he says 'pas mal' exactly like Chat Noir does in the Kung Food episode! Wow, my mind was blown!_

 _Also, for the record, Daredevil would have worked out who Ladybug and Chat Noir are, in a literal heartbeat. I'm a huge fan of the Mark Waid comics, couldn't resist putting that reference in!_

 _Updates will be sporadic, as besides having other stories to manage, we recently had family issues, I've got looming deadlines at work, and I just started a second job. Please sit tight until I have the time to write more! ~ W.J._

 ** _Edit:_** _sorry, I just accidentally posted Chapter 9 of my other Miraculous story in this one's place. I've fixed it now, apologies for the mistake!_


	10. Cookies

**Chapter Ten: Cookies**

 _Due to his strict diet, Adrien can't eat the cookies Marinette made. Chat Noir scoffs nearly a whole batch when Ladybug brings them to patrol. So how does Adrien know exactly what those cookies taste like?_

* * *

"These are _so good!_ " Alya mumbled, licking a stray crumb from her fingertip. With her phone-wielding hand now clean, she took a photo for Instagram-able posterity, then reached for the plate again. She wasn't quite quick enough: Nino got in first, nudging her hand out of the way to snatch the top-most cookie.

"What?" he asked, smiling smugly in the face of her death-glare. "You said it was good, I just wanted to see if you were right." He took a large bite, eyes widening. "It _is_ good!" he agreed, already eying the rest of the plate hopefully.

Still glowering at him, Alya grabbed another cookie, pointedly moved out of his reach, and bit into it. Her stormy expression cleared in an instant.

"What kind is it?" Nino asked. He held up the remains of his lurid-green cookie, examining it reverently.

Marinette giggled. These cookies had already been a hit with the few lucky customers who had taste-tested them; but it was extra special to know that her friends liked them as well! "Those are pistachio-nougat, and these-" she gestured at the bright-red cookie in Alya's hand "-are red velvet."

Alya nibbled at it, savouring the taste. "Kind of reminds me of a _buche de Noel_!"

Marinette nodded happily. "That's what I was aiming for."

Nino's mouth dropped open; luckily for them, it was now empty. "Whoa, whoa, whoa - _you_ made these?!"

"Yes," Marinette answered, flushing with pleasure at the obvious awe in his voice. "Christmas is coming up, and my parents want to sell some holiday-themed cookies, so they let me experiment with some new flavourings. The red-velvet ones have cinnamon added to the dough, and the pistachio-nougat ones have a bit of glace fruit in them. Our customers who tried them seemed to like them so far-"

"You've been giving out _samples?!"_ Nino was now looking at her as if she were a domestic goddess. "Dude, I am _so_ coming by your place every day between now and Christmas!"

"Sponger!" Alya muttered. She slapped his arm, then used the same hand to pick up another cookie.

Nino also helped himself, as if to spite her (not that he needed the extra reason). "Like being best buds with a baker's daughter never brought you any perks."

"She was _my_ friend first! Go ask Adrien to give you a celery stick, or a kale-cupcake, or whatever the heck it is that professional models eat."

"Hey, don't diss my man- Adrien, over here!" Seeing the subject of their conversation crossing the quadrangle near them, Nino called him over. "You've _got_ to try this!"

As Adrien approached, Marinette fiddled nervously with the edge of a napkin. Alya raised a significant eyebrow at her; though she didn't speak aloud, her look said: _girl, if the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, you got this!_

That was exactly what Marinette hoped. She might be a complete spaz around her crush, but there were a few things she could do right, and baking was one of them. She had complete faith in her family's trusted recipes; and, based on her friends' reactions, she also had confidence in her own creations. If Adrien was left unimpressed by these cookies, she would be very surprised indeed. In fact, if he were to spontaneously drop on one knee and declare his undying love for her, it would be a not-so-unexpected bonus!

Adrien came over, smiling questioningly at Nino's summons. When his eyes fell on the plate, he actually flinched, much to everyone's surprise. He took a step closer, half reached out, hesitated a moment, then reluctantly let his hand drop. "I'm sorry," he said, "I couldn't possibly-"

"No, g-go ahead," Marinette stammered, images of becoming the future Mrs Agreste already starting to waver like a mirage. "T-there's plenty, so..."

At her words, Alya smacked away Nino's hand, which had been hovering subtly near the plate.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, but I shouldn't. I'm on a strict eating regime - modelling requirements, y'know - so much as I'd love to, I really can't..."

Nino looked aghast. Sure, he had always been turned down when he offered Adrien sweets or snacks during school breaks, but he had always assumed his friend was just being unnecessarily polite. "But - but - but - _cookies!_ " he tried to argue.

Adrien shook his head. "No way. If I'm carrying so much as an extra half-pound at my next check-up with my nutritionist, I'll be given portions that would make what rabbits eat look like a feast."

Nino drew in an uneasy breath. "Sucks to be you, dude," he said, picking up a cookie and almost inhaling it, as if in consolation.

Adrien chuckled wryly. "No kidding," he said, watching with thinly-veiled envy as a morsel of chocolate at the side of Nino's mouth danced up and down with every chew. He looked instead at Marinette, whose expression was somewhere between shell-shocked and horrified. He cringed, painfully aware of how just different his life was from that of the average kid. As the daughter of a baker, she probably wasn't used to people turn down free baked goods! It wasn't like he _wanted_ to disappoint her - he was a heartbeat away from breaking down his resolve and just grabbing at the plate - but he knew by now that these were just the consequences of being who he was. Not to mention the comeuppance he would face was far worse than the pleasure that alluded him - even if the stack of cookies in front of him was like his vision of _heaven_.

"Sorry," he said again, smiling apologetically. "I really wish I could try one, they look amazing! If I ever have a long gap between photo shoots, I'll come to your bakery and buy some, for sure."

Alya and Nino exchanged glances, both aware of what an empty promise this was - Adrien _never_ had long breaks between shoots! Marinette, however, either taking the sentiment at face-value, or else beguiled by the brilliance of those flawlessly-white model teeth, dimpled back at him.

"O-of course," she said, glancing shyly at him from beneath lowered lashes. "Whenever you want, j-just let me know, I'll brang you a bitch."

She only knew she had said something wrong when she saw all three of them gaping at her. The sentence she had just uttered replayed itself in her head; she squeaked in dismay when she realized what she had actually said. "Batch! I mean bring! You a batch! Batch, not- oh, god!" She ended with a drawn-out whimper, burying her face in her napkin.

Nino spluttered, spraying crumbs all down the front of his shirt. Alya dropped her head into her hand, hiding her smile out of loyalty. Adrien chuckled before manners obliged him to stifle his laughter, just like he had done back when his umbrella had closed on her head. Marinette raised that head just enough to give him a terrified glance, then swiftly hid it again. The glow of her mortified blush was practically visible through her napkin.

Nino had got it all wrong. Though parts of being Adrien certainly _did_ suck, there were times when it sucked far more to be _her_.

* * *

"These are _so good!_ " Chat Noir said, giving a happy hum which, characteristically, sounded like a purr.

Ladybug smiled at him, like an indulgent parent with an idiot child. She watched him screw his eyes closed as he chewed ecstatically, completely unaware that he had several green crumbs stuck to his cheek. After her disappointment with Adrien earlier that day, it was nice to see _someone_ enjoying her handiwork!

"What flavour is this?" he asked, having already finished his third - or was it fourth? - green cookie, and picked up another. He held it between two fingers by its edges, careful not to sink his claws into the thick icing.

After Adrien had declined the cookies, Alya and Nino had reluctantly stopped eating out of consideration for him, leaving plenty of leftovers for her to take back home. Deciding to put them to good use (besides feeding several of them to a delighted Tikki), she had re-purposed them for patrol that night, though not before giving them a little extra _something_. She had used a piping bag to draw chocolate-ganache spots on the red velvet cookies; while the pistachio ones were now covered with black fondant, from which she had cut out a pad and four toe-prints, letting the green of the biscuit underneath show through.

"That one's Chat Noir-flavoured, obviously," she said, smirking as he stopped, eyes wide, halfway through a gigantic bite.

"You're making my fellow cats into _cookies_?!" he gasped in mock-outrage, playing along with her. "All this time, I never knew I was working alongside Mrs Lovett - and my name isn't even Sweeney Todd!"

"You're definitely not a barber," Ladybug teased, with a glance at his windblown blond locks, "demon or otherwise."

Chat Noir was warily eying a blob of red that was embedded in his cookie. "Mr Snuffles, is that you?" he asked it.

Ladybug laughed. "That's a glace cherry, Chaton. They're actually pistachio-nougat flavour."

"Whatever they are, they taste incredible." He beamed joyously at her. "Sweets from the sweet!"

She swatted away the sugary compliment. "I think that's supposed to be 'for' the sweet."

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Aw, you think I'm sweet? How sweet of you!"

Ladybug rolled her eyes. "You can stop that _tout sweet_ ," she told him, making him chuckle. He wasn't exactly wrong; at times he could be sickeningly sweet, to the point of being downright _gooey_.

"How about these?" he asked, taking a red cookie. "Don't tell me they're baked full of squished ladybugs?"

"Ew!" She shuddered at the thought. "No, the only squishy thing in them is melted chocolate, those ones are red velvet."

As he bit into it, she swore she saw his pupils dilate - which, as they were already narrow and cat-like, was quite a feat. He chewed in silence for so long, she actually wondered if he hated it and didn't want to tell her. When he finally swallowed, he stared at her in stunned silence; though the quiet was nice, it was seriously beginning to worry her.

"Marry me," he finally said, giving her a rapturous look.

She laughed it off. "If you like them that much, you should marry the baker - and I don't think his wife would approve!"

"I'd marry you if it meant having more cookies like this," he said, in what appeared to be a very earnest tone.

"Sponger!" she scoffed. "You can buy them yourself next time!"

"Or I could pay for them if you bring them," he suggested eagerly. "Aren't you going to have some? This kitty is willing to share!"

With a put-upon look, she helped herself to a red cookie, admiring how well the spots matched her suit. It _was_ pretty good, if she did say so herself!

Chat Noir seemed to be determined to show how much he liked them by polishing off the rest of the batch himself. "Seriously," he said with his mouth half-full, "these must be from the best bakery in all of Paris!"

She had to admit she was touched by his words. She was very proud of her family's business, not to mention her own kitchen prowess - she was such a mess at everything else, she had to take pride in the few things she excelled at!

"Good, aren't they?" she agreed, trying not to sound too smug. "I often go there to get cookies for my kwami." She was seriously glad then that she hadn't told him which bakery they were from - the last thing she needed was a stray cat sniffing round her home, begging for scraps!

At her words, he pulled a face. "Lucky you. My kwami exclusively eats stinky camembert."

She wrinkled her nose at the thought of having to constantly fill her purse with such pungent-smelling kwami-snacks. "That's too bad! Although cheese can be good sometimes. I'm pretty sure that bakery also makes some tasty cheese danishes. If we do this again - and you're willing to buy - perhaps I could bring..."

Chat Noir grinned at her over what was left of his (seventh? eighth?) cookie. "If you do, my kwami will want to marry you!"

She gave an un-ladylike snort. "His chances are about as good as yours."

He looked thoughtful, as if he were calculating his odds. "Ludicrously high, then?" She threw a napkin at him; he laughed as it bounced off the shoulder of his suit.

In the end, though he shared some of the cookies with her, he still ended up eating most of them. She didn't really mind; it was gratifying to see him enjoy them so much. And he _definitely_ enjoyed them. She was pretty sure that if she had let him, he would have lapped up every single crumb left in the box, just like the greedy kitty he was.

* * *

Sometimes, it definitely sucked to be her. Besides undoubtedly sucking to be _Marinette_ , it sometimes even sucked to be _Ladybug_.

It certainly _sucked_ to have to do school work on a Saturday, all because she had missed class to chase down an akuma earlier in the week. It sucked even more that she was stuck in the school library, since the course reader she needed wasn't loaned out; and, adding insult to injury, she seemed to be the _only_ one stuck at school on a perfectly good weekend. The campus was usually left open to students on Saturdays, but there weren't any club or sport activities scheduled for today, and no other remorseful truants were in sight. Even the librarian was absent, attending to the yearly stock-take out in a backroom.

It was so deserted, Marinette considered letting Tikki out of her purse. It wasn't like anyone was around to see her, and she could use the kwami's help to better understand the Hundred Years' W-

It was lucky she hadn't gone through with her impulse; she heard the door to the library swing open, and a pair of footsteps approach. Making sure Tikki was still tucked safely out of sight, she looked up absently to see who it was - then hastily dove behind the history book she had propped open on the desk in front of her.

Adrien had just come in, and was heading towards the bookshelves across from her.

She instantly scolded herself for falling back on cowardly habits - this was the perfect opportunity to talk to him, without Chloe around to interrupt! Although, after what she had said the last time she had attempted to speak to him, she wasn't sure if she could face him ever again. Urging herself to have a bit of backbone - after all, it wasn't like she had never embarrassed herself in front of him before - she half-rose from her seat, frenetically fumbling for some topic of conversation. He was heading for the history section, so maybe he needed to catch up too? He often skipped class for photo shoots, and it wasn't like she knew whether he had been there or not, having skipped out herself (immediate task: come up with a plausible explanation for not having been there, in case he asked). Maybe they could read up on it together - the perfect excuse to spend time with him!

He didn't seem to have noticed her yet. Should she let him know she was here, or wait until she got a bit closer to him? Even without the librarian nearby, calling out to him across the library probably wasn't the best idea, she would probably just-

To her surprise, she saw him stumble. Flawless, fleet-footed Adrien, acting like someone as graceless as herself? He was the best fencer in the school, and his basketball footwork was practically legendary, so why did he...

Another glance told her that something was terribly wrong. He swayed as he walked, fumbling for each step. His hand went out towards the nearest shelf. For one horrible moment, she feared that he would grab it and pull it down on top of himself; however, he missed it, clutching at empty air. He teetered a few more steps, tilted precariously, leaned way too far towards the floor...

She was moving before she even realized what she did.

She didn't know how she managed it. Tikki told her afterwards that she had sprinted across the room, vaulted over a desk, veered around a set of shelves, and thrown herself the last couple of feet like a baseballer sliding into home. As Ladybug, it would have been as easy as blinking; as Marinette, she had no clue how she could have possibly pulled off such a feat. All she knew was that moments later, she found herself, panting and shaken, lying on the ground with a likewise sprawled-out Adrien collapsed half on top of her. Instead of falling and cracking his skull on the hard wooden floor, his golden head lay cushioned in her lap.

After a split-second of freaking out over the fact that she was _making_ _physical contact with him_ , she immediately switched to panicking over the fact that _he was lying far too still and showing absolutely no signs of life_.

" _Ohmigodtikkiwhatdoido?!_ " she whisper-shrieked; why, she didn't know. Was she worried he would notice her kwami, or did she not want to wake him? Both were ridiculous notions, because a) he was too unconscious to notice her kwami, and b) she didn't care if he noticed her kwami, so long as _he wasn't unconscious!_

Instantly grasping that this was an emergency for which any attempts at secrecy must be laid aside, Tikki phased out of her purse, hovering in the air beside her. "It's alright, Marinette! You can take care of him, just keep calm and do as I say." Seeing the girl nod mutely, holding back full-blown symptoms of a freak-out with an effort, she hummed approvingly. "First, make sure he's breathing."

Marinette sort of knew how to revive a person. Though she'd never had to before, her parents had made sure she was trained in what to do, in case something should ever happen at the bakery; it was just part and parcel with working in hospitality. Though the prospect of giving Adrien mouth-to-mouth had her on the verge of shambles, she managed to keep her head.

She held her clammy palm in front of Adrien's lips; when she felt a faint gust tickle her skin, she drew a sigh of relief herself. "H-He's breathing."

"Good. Next," Tikki instructed, "check his pulse."

She took hold of his wrist, and very nearly panicked when she couldn't feel anything. Had she missed the right spot? Her fingers roamed haphazardly up and down his arm, searching for an encouraging flutter. No, she was probably just doing it wrong, it wasn't that- he couldn't be-

 _Did the front of his shirt just... twitch?_

Even if his pulse was erratic, there was no way she should have been able to actually see his heart beating out of his chest - though hers certainly felt like it did! Tikki seemed to notice the same odd movement; she hovered closer to Adrien's collar, hesitated, then looked at Marinette, prompting her to go ahead. She dutifully pressed her hand to the front of Adrien's shirt, finally relaxing an iota when she felt his heart pounding away steadily beneath it.

"He should be alright then," Tikki said, eying the prone boy thoughtfully.

"What's wrong with him, Tikki?" Marinette ask, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

Despite her calm exterior, the kwami looked slightly worried. "I don't know, I honestly can't tell just from looking at him. Whatever it is, we should probably get him some help, especially if he isn't-"

 _Help._ Marinette suddenly realized just how alone they were. The librarian was out the back, out of hearing distance; the school had a first-aid office, but it was at the opposite end of the building. She should go and get someone, but she didn't want to leave him - what if he went into a seizure while she was gone, or tried to get up and pulled the shelf down on himself after all?

She was _Ladybug_ , wasn't she? She was _supposed_ to be the help that others called on when they were in need, and right now, _Adrien_ was the one who needed-

Unbeknownst to her, her eyes had taken on a steely glint which, if Chat Noir had been there, he would have immediately recognized.

Gritting her teeth in determination, she took a firm hold of the fabric at the shoulder of Adrien shirt with one hand, latched onto the waistband of his jeans with the other, and _heaved_.

* * *

Miss Louise Abelard was the medical officer at Francoise-Dupont College.

She liked the students, enjoyed her job, and had had blessedly few incidents during her tenure. The usual batch of malingers who got headaches whenever they had a quiz next period; the odd twisted ankle in gym class or upset stomach brought on by a questionable home-packed lunch; one memorable case where a boy had tried to fend off an akuma with a lacrosse stick and managed to swipe himself across the back of the head with it, necessitating a few stitches.

(Seriously, Kim Le Chien was a menace, directly or indirectly causing almost a third of the injuries in which he himself was not also the patient; only Alix Kubdel came close to rivalling him!)

It wasn't usual for Louise to be at work on a Saturday. She had meant to take an inventory of her medicine cabinet on Friday afternoon, but had been called to substitute a gym teacher instead. She was meticulous about her job, and so she had dropped in on the weekend, remembering that her last box of paracetamol was close to expiration. Call her paranoid, but the one time she didn't bother would be the one time she needed-

A sudden thud against the door made her drop a vial of pills all over the floor. Swearing softly to herself, she crossed to the door as another insistent fist pounded against it.

Not a fist. A _foot_.

Marinette stopped kicking the door as soon as she saw the knob turn. She had to kick, because she had both hands full: a fistful of shirt-sleeve was clutched in one, the crease of denim at back of Adrien's knee in the other.

When Miss Abelard opened the door, she was immediately confronted by the sight of a diminutive girl staggering under the weight of the boy draped full-length across her shoulders. " _Help me!_ " she gasped, eyes wide and frightened, as soon as she caught sight of the teacher.

Miss Abelard was no less startled, but at least better-qualified to handle situations like these - though she had never handled a situation quite like _this_ before. She instantly hurried forward, easing the unconscious boy off the girl's back and holding him up on one side, while the girl took the other.

Louise marvelled at how she had managed to carry him. Adrien Agreste - she had been informed of his presence as soon as he started attending the college, knew his medical file off by heart, recognized him instantly from the multiple check-ins with her that his father had insisted upon - might be slight of frame, but he was quite tall for his age, and weighted as much as one would expect of a healthy teenage boy; especially one who was currently a dead-weight. She was all the more amazed when she saw that his rescuer was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, of all people! The poor girl was renowned for her clumsiness, often ending up in her clinic sporting bumps and scrapes, most of which were self-inflicted. Just a day previously, Marinette had been in the gym class she had been called to supervise, and had seemingly been hit in the face with a volley-ball more times than she had managed to spike it. Yet now, it was the _teacher_ who felt like a weakling, as she struggled to take even a few steps with Adrien's arm braced round her shoulder. She watched in bewilderment as this skinny slip of a girl steadily eased her burden towards the clinic's narrow bed, tottering slightly but otherwise firm on her feet.

"What happened?" Miss Abelard asked, once they had managed to lay the boy down gently on the mattress.

Marinette turned anxious blue eyes upon her. "I-I don't know. He was in the library, and all of a sudden he j-just... keeled over, and I..."

 _She carried him all the way from the library?!_ "Did he hit his head when he fell?" Miss Abelard asked, saving suspensions of disbelief for later.

"No, I d-don't think so. I was near him when it happened... I managed to sort of, uh, catch him as he..."

Wondering if Marinette should be reconsidered for a few sporting clubs - the weight-lifting team might gladly welcome her - Miss Abelard got to work. She checked Adrien's breathing and pulse, put a cushion behind his head and elevated his feet, lifted his eyelids and checked his pupils, quickly retrieved his file to consult for any possible pre-existing conditions (though she already knew there would be none, save for an allergic reaction to feathers, which wasn't exactly life-threatening).

"How long has he been out?" she asked, frowning at her patient. If something should happen to Adrien while she was on duty, Mr Agreste would surely hold her responsible - the last thing she wanted was to be accused of negligence!

Marinette wrung her hands together. "O-only a few minutes. Shouldn't he be...?"

As if he had been listening in all along, Adrien stirred. Miss Abelard bent over him, stopping him from sitting up with a firm hand on his chest. "Easy, Adrien, stay still. You're in the medical bay right now. You fainted in the library."

He fidgeted for a moment, as her words took a second to register; then he obediently lay still, chuckling faintly. "Seriously?" he asked, cracking his eyes open and giving a small, embarrassed smile.

"Seriously. Wait a while before you try to sit up. Do you remember anything from before? Any blows to the head, ringing in your ears, bouts of shakes, pain of any kind?"

He thought for a moment. "No, all I remember is my vision going kind of fuzzy, and feeling like I was about to fall over."

"Well, you did," Miss Abelard told him flatly. "Are you suffering from exhaustion at all? Did you eat and drink enough today?"

Adrien looked sheepish. "Probably... not?" he admitted.

Louise gave an exasperated huff. If he had been seriously injured, it would have been _her_ job on the line! "That was very silly of you," she said, bluntly. "I don't even see how that is possible, since you're on that eating plan-"

"That's why." Adrien swallowed nervously, before launching into a halting confession. "I sometimes, uh... _deviate_ from my nutritionist's guidelines, and when I do I, um, cut out some calories from my regular menu, to make up for-"

"Ah." Louise understood; in fact, despite her professional standpoint on the matter, she actually sympathized. Adrien's eating regime was very strict, almost entirely made up of misery on a plate - even the most dedicated professional athlete would have a hard time swallowing it day after day. She wouldn't blame a teenage boy with a healthy appetite for ditching his scientifically-balanced dishes in favour of the odd treat. However, compensating by skipping meals was completely uncalled for.

"That was a dangerous thing to do," she scolded him. "I'd say your blood glucose levels dropped too low, causing you to pass out."

"Oh." Adrien dragged a hand over his face. "Will you have to tell Father?" he asked, looking at her pleadingly between his fingers.

She considered for a few long moments. "I'll write it up in your file," she said at last, "but I don't think it will be necessary to report this to him directly, unless your condition worsens."

"It won't," Adrien promised, trying to sit up again. "I'm sorry, I'm just a bit run-down and let myself go hungry for too long, it was stupid of me to-"

"It definitely was." Miss Abelard crossed to her desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a protein bar. "I'd like you to eat this, if you're able to. You should also have some water-"

Before she could finish, Marinette was already at her elbow, holding a paper cup. Adrien caught sight of her and blinked in surprise.

"Miss Dupain-Cheng saw you collapse and brought you here," Louise explained. _Just how is still an explained phenomenon,_ she added to himself.

Adrien seemed to agree; he stared owlishly at Marinette for some time, finally remembering his manners enough to say "Thank you."

"D-don't mention it," the girl said, turning her gaze away shyly.

Miss Abelard took the cup of water from her - despite recent evidence to the contrary, past record said it was safer out of her hands - and put it on the bedside table, passing Adrien the protein bar. "I want to make sure you get something into you before I let you go. It would also be advisable for you to arrange to be picked up by car, if you're able-"

"I can manage," Adrien said instantly.

Guessing rightly that he didn't want his father to catch even the slightest hint of what had happened, Louise relented. "Then perhaps Marinette can walk you home, if it's not too much trouble."

"O-of course not," Marinette instantly offered, causing Adrien to regard her gratefully over his half-eaten protein bar. He chewed it slowly between sips of water.

Miss Abelard asked him if he had any lingering nausea or headache."Don't try to cover it up if you do," she warned him, when he answered to the negative. "You've been very silly and irresponsible. I don't think you realize just how serious this was. If you'd hit your head when you went down, you could have been concussed; or done all sorts of untold damage, depending on how you fell.

Adrien looked suitably contrite. "I know. I'm very sorry for causing so much trouble." He glanced in Marinette's direction as he spoke.

Satisfied that he was suitably chastened, Miss Abelard gave him another once-over, checking his pulse and eyes again, asking him for a few questions - his name, what day it was, where he lived - to make sure he wasn't confused or suffering memory lapses. "I hope whatever treat you had, it was worth it," she muttered.

An unexpected smile spread across Adrien's face. "Oh, it was," he assured her.

Louise fought to remain stern; she rather liked her food herself. "What proved to be so beyond temptation?" she asked. It was as good a question as any to check for concussion.

"Cookies." Adrien leaned back on the bed, beaming at the ceiling as he remembered.

Miss Abelard's mouth twitched. "They must have been pretty fantastic to warrant all this. What kind were they? Choc-chip?"

"Some of them were chocolate." It reassured her that he was remembering this without any effort. "Red velvet, covered with chocolate spots."

Miss Abelard raised her eyebrows; she had a self-confessed sweet-tooth, and what he had said appealed to it greatly. "That sounds delicious!"

"It was," Adrien dreamily replied. "They had a hint of cinnamon in them, almost like a _buche de noel_. And that wasn't all - there was also pistachio-nougat ones, with glace fruits all through them, and thick icing on the top!"

"I can understand why you found it hard to resist," Louise conceded. "How long ago did you have that?"

"Last night."

"And you haven't eaten anything since then?"

"Uh, no," he admitted, with a guilty grimace.

"Hmm." Louise gave him her best basilisk-glare. "Well, don't make a habit of skipping meals, it's a very dangerous thing to do. No cookie, however good, is worth jeopardizing your health for." She paused, then added: "Let me know if you feel that your nutritionist is being conservative with your calorie intake. If you're still significantly hungry after meals, or feeling weak or faint at any point in the day, just let me know, I'll write a recommendation for your portions be increased."

He smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you very much, ma'am," he said, with sincerity.

"That's alright. Now, if you're feeling better, you may go - but make sure you inform someone if you start to feel wobbly again, and see a doctor if you have any other lingering symptoms."

"I will," he promised, swinging his legs off the bed and getting to his feet. He seemed steady enough for her to let him go - with proper precautions.

"Marinette, can you still see him-?" She turned to find that the girl standing by the bed had gone incredibly white. All Louise's professional sensibilities went on full alert. "Marinette, are you alright? Do you feel ill? Maybe you should sit down-"

Adrien also leaned towards her concernedly; the girl instantly jolted upright, as if she had been stung. "N-no, I'm f-f-fine," she stammered. "I just... I guess it all caught up with me..."

 _Shock set in,_ Louise thought to herself. "Are you sure? You look a bit pale. You're welcome to rest here for a minute, I'm sure Adrien can wait-"

"No, i-it's fine!" As if to prove a point, Marinette strode to the door, opened it, and looked back across the threshold at Adrien. For some reason, her eyes swept searchingly over him for a moment. "I'll walk you," she said at last, "if you're ready."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Once more expressing his gratitude to Miss Abelard, Adrien followed her out of the room.

Louise paused before she stooped to pick up the pills she had dropped earlier, looking wonderingly at the empty doorway. She smiled softly to herself.

Though it wasn't really her place to say so, they would make a _very_ cute couple.

* * *

They went back to the library to retrieve their things, then headed for the front gate together.

All the way down the stairs, Adrien could feel Marinette's eyes on his back. It was funny; he, and many other students besides, often watched Marinette navigate the staircase with bated breath, waiting for her to fall (which she quite often did). He felt guilty for it now, though unlike others, he at least had good intentions. He always watched to see if she fell, so he could try to catch her; unlike _some_ people (namely Kim), he didn't place bets on how many steps she would manage before she inevitably tripped.

Their roles had been reversed, and now _he_ felt like the clumsy one. He couldn't believe he had actually _fainted_! Just as well no one knew he was Chat Noir (except Plagg, who was bound to give him heaps later on). He had a reputation to uphold, and having been possessed by multiple akumas had already tarnished it. He was lucky that his 'princess' was none the wiser about just who she had saved - needing to be rescued as Adrien was embarrassing enough! He was exceedingly grateful that Marinette wasn't the type to tease or spread gossip.

She was being very quiet. Had he scared her? It must have been distressing for her to see him suddenly topple over like that! Yet again, he had unintentionally upset her, and he felt bad about it. Even if he hadn't really been at fault - other than with himself - he should apologize to her. When they were halfway across the quadrangle and she still hadn't said anything, he nervously cleared his throat.

"Uh, thanks Marinette, for helping me out. I've already caused you enough trouble, so there's no real need for you to see me home, I'm sure I can manage-"

"It's fine."

The brusqueness of her tone made him start. He glanced sideways at her. She was staring straight ahead, as if she were intentionally avoiding looking at him.

He was more than a little taken aback. Sure, she must have been startled by this whole incident; secretly, he was actually quite flattered that she seemed to be worried about him. Marinette was so kind to everyone, he really shouldn't be surprised! Even so, she probably thought that he was very stupid, doing this to himself, all because he had eaten-

 _Cookies!_ The thought suddenly hit him like a thunderbolt. He had just admitted in front of her that he had rejected her cookies yesterday, only to eat some others later that night! He suspected that Ladybug had gotten them from her bakery - two batches of red-and-green cookies were too great a coincidence to ignore - but of course she couldn't possibly know the full circumstances (nor did he really want her to). She must think that he had intentionally snubbed her!

"Um, I'm also sorry about yesterday," he went on. When she looked at him blankly - _eye contact, that's a slight improvement!_ \- he hastened to explain: "About the cookies you brought. I really _did_ want to try them, they looked absolutely mouth-watering. If my father hadn't set all these stupid rules... I only ended up eating some later because I couldn't resist temptation twice. A friend brought some for me, and sh- er, _they_ didn't know that I-"

"Adrien." Marinette stopped walking; he had to double-back in order to keep from leaving her behind. Had he said something wrong? Why was she looking at him like that? Why did she-

She took a deep breath, meeting his eyes with what seemed an effort. "Adrien, I know... that you, that you are... y-you're Chat Noir, aren't you?"

Adrien didn't really remember feeling faint before, but he _definitely_ experienced it this time around. He didn't collapse, though it was quite possible that his senses temporarily took leave of his body. Something about him must have alarmed Marinette; he felt her hand on his arm, her grip surprisingly strong.

"Adrien?! Are you alright? Are you going to faint again? Oh, god! I shouldn't have just said it like-"

"It's okay." Though he still felt shocked - _what an understatement!_ \- from having heard her divulge his biggest secret out of nowhere, he was a hero and she was a civilian; his first instinct was to reassure her. "There was no other way to say it really, was there?"

She still seemed concerned for him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have blurted it out like that. Do you want to sit down? Come, over here..."

She led him towards a nearby bench, pulling him along by the arm. He followed her obediently, wondering at her all the while. It was incredibly remiss of him to sometimes forget what a great class president she was. Though she might be meek and flat-footed most of the time, Marinette was sort of a hero in her own right. His nickname for her really did suit; although...

"Maybe it's you who should call me 'princess'," he joked.

He felt her jolt travel right through her grip, up into his own arm. _Whoops, too much Chat?_ he instantly rebuked himself. If she had only just realized this, she must be as shocked as he was, if not more.

They sat side by side on the bench, neither of them saying anything. Adrien took it upon himself to break the silence. "So, what let the cat out of the bag?"

Marinette turned on him with a look that was almost outraged - _too much Chat!_ \- opened her mouth, closed it again, and heaved a huge sigh. "The cookies," she said at last. "Those ones in particular were a test-batch that aren't for sale yet. The only ones who had them yesterday, besides Alya and Nino... and theirs didn't have spots or anything on them..."

Adrien felt a lead weight drop in his stomach. After all he had done to help her protect her identity, had he just given away...? "Y-you mean, you saw... at your store, she came to it... my Lady was-"

Why did she flinch? Was it so weird that he spoke of his partner so casually, even giving her a nickname, just as he had done with Marinette herself? After hearing Alya rave about her heroine in glowing terms - his Lady fully deserved every accolade she got - it must be odd to hear him speak of her as if she was just another of his friends. _Though she was actually much more to him than that -_ not that he could confess that to Marinette, she already knew far more than she should!

The girl beside him was examining her shoes, an indescribable tension in the set of her shoulders. "She comes by the shop sometimes," she said, slowly. "We, uh, don't usually see her, but we leave some cookies out for her. She seems to like them a lot."

Adrien smiled. Ladybug had told him just last night that she often needed to supply her kwami with sugary snacks. If only he could have a similar arrangement with Paris' cheese-shops, reluctant though he was to drown in a smelly sea of camembert! It was just like Marinette to leave out free cookies for her hero. Even with all they did to protect the city, it almost seemed like an uneven trade - those cookies were _that good!_

If nothing else, he should use this opportunity to tell her as much. "For the record, I really like them too."

That seemed to win him some favour; she gave her ballet-flats a tiny smile. "I thought you might."

Her words from before came back to him. "Alya and Nino's cookies didn't have spots or paw-prints... Does this mean you decorated those ones just for us?"

Marinette shrugged; if there was one thing she was good at, Adrien decided, it was being modest. "It was the least I could do, for Paris' greatest hero."

 _Hero - singular noun._ "Which of us were you trying to impress?" he couldn't help but ask, even if he didn't really care who her favourite was. She had called him 'awesome' once, but Alya had probably biased her pretty strongly in Ladybug's favour. _And why not?_ \- she was _his_ favourite too!

Marinette baulked at the question. "B-both of you, of course," she said, looking as if she was mentally taking her foot back out of her mouth.

Adrien didn't push the point. He knew he needed to win her to his side, if he was to have any hope of getting her to keep his secret. Marinette might be well-meaning, but the temptation to tell Alya must be colossal - _he_ struggled with it himself half the time!

"I'm sorry to put you on the spot like this," he said. "I wouldn't have wanted anyone to find this out, since it would put them - _you_ \- at great risk."

"I didn't mean t-"

"It's my own fault," he gently interrupted. "My carelessness caused all this. With me being to blame, it's hardly fair of me to ask you for favours; but it's _very_ important that you don't tell _anyone_ about this."

"Of course," she said, staring at him as if he had just said the most obvious thing in the world.

"Not anyone," he pressed, thankful that she was agreeing to this so readily. "Not even Alya."

She gave a derisive snort. "Definitely not!" Adrien smiled, utterly relieved that she was being so understanding. The thought of the blog titles Alya would come up with if she learned of his identity were enough to make him quake in his boots!

"What about Ladybug?" Marinette wanted to know. When Adrien opened his mouth to firmly tell her he couldn't share his partner's identity with her, she went on: "You'll tell her that I know, won't you?"

He sighed. He'd _really_ made a mess of this, Ladybug would let him have it when she found out - and he would deserve it! "Yeah, I'll have to tell her," he agreed, "so that we can both protect you, in the event that anyone ever tries to get this secret out of you." He didn't say the word 'Papillion', in case it scared her any more than she already was. He looked at her carefully, this girl who have saved him today. Sure, he had protected _her_ from Evilstrator and the Gamer in the past; but that was his duty, what he had willingly dedicated himself to when he had accepted his ring, whereas Marinette didn't even have a Miraculous to use to keep herself safe. He shouldn't have to extract so many promises from her, not when it was _his_ secret that posed such a danger to her.

"Don't worry, Marinette," he said, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder; the slight touch made her jump. "The three of us - you, me, Ladybug - we'll all be in this together, we'll keep you safe between us. Just do me one other favour, please: _don't_ tell Ladybug about today." When she didn't answer, he continued to appeal to her. "What I did today, the fainting thing - it was stupid." He scolded himself a little more forcefully than he had meant to. "It won't happen again, I promise; so if you see her, please don't tell her about it. I would never knowingly do anything that would make her doubt me as a partner. If she learned about it, she would only needlessly worry-"

"Of _course_ I'm worried!"

Marinette surprised him yet again by leaping off the bench. Why did she look so... _furious_ all of a sudden? And why did she say-

"You _idiot_!" she shrieked at the empty atrium above; he was suddenly _very_ glad that there was no one else around. "How could you be so reckless?! What if this had happened while you were on a roof? Or balanced atop the Eiffel Tower? Or in the middle of an akuma attack? Do you _want_ to hand Papillion your Miraculous on an unconscious platter? What if I hadn't been there to catch you today? What would I have thought if you were seriously hurt and just never turned up for patrol? And then you have the _nerve_ to try to keep this from me - by asking _me_ to keep it from _myself_! You are in _serious_ trouble, kitty, so don't you _dare_ try to say I shouldn't worry - of _course_ I'm going to worry!"

The more she spoke, the surer Adrien was that he had hit his head when he fell after all. That was the only explanation for this; otherwise, it seemed like... that _Marinette_ was talking like... _as if she were..._

"My... Lady?" he asked, hesitantly.

She shot him a withering look. "Wipe that shocked expression off your face! I haven't got time for you to come to terms with this, I'm too mad at you right now! Honestly, couldn't you just _tell_ me that you couldn't eat those cookies, like you did earlier in the day? I would've understood, no questions asked! Besides, it's not like you've ever wanted to hide things that are related to your identity before, you used to always ask me if we could just know who the other was, so I don't understand why you didn't just-"

"Maybe I really wanted to eat the cookies," he pointed out. The edge was wearing off his bewilderment; the more he recognized of his Lady in the girl beside him, the more he was starting to enjoy this conversation!

"Save it," she told him, shooting him the unimpressed look he _knew so well_ \- practically every joke he'd ever made had been met with that same look! "This isn't about the cookies, this is about _you_ being safe, so you can help me keep _Paris_ safe! Having a Miraculous gives you a greater responsibility, it was selfish of you to-"

"I didn't do anything as terrible as all that," he interjected, a little hurt that she was being so harsh on him. "It was just a little fainting spell, nothing more, I certainly didn't mean for all _this_ to happen. At least no great harm came from it." Attempting to lighten the mood, he grinned at her. "It's not like I tossed my cookies or anything!"

She emitted something that sounded a lot like a growl, planting her hands on her hips. "That is officially the _worst_ pun you have ever told, and now is certainly _not_ the time for any sort of humour! You know I depend on you, right?" Seeing how serious she was, he sobered instantly, hanging his head with a hint of shame. "I can't do this without you. If you don't take better care of yourself, one day I might _have_ to do it without you, and that's the _last_ thing I want! I thought you valued our mission more than that! I thought you valued _yourself_ more than that! And yet I find out that you've been skipping meals, all because some cookies were wafted under your-"

"You said yourself that they were good," he reminded her.

"They _were_ good," she shot back, utterly nonplussed. She wouldn't let him use compliments to soften her up, he should know by now that it wouldn't work. "That is no excuse for you to neglect yourself like that. Even a _child_ knows that it's a bad idea to skip meals. Besides, we spend our nights running around on rooftops. Don't you think that would burn off a whole lot of calories?"

"Depends on how many chocolate dots you put on those cookies," he countered.

"There were five on each one, of course. The same as my-"

"I should have questioned how accurate those cookies were," he said, slapping himself on the forehead with a force that, after his earlier tumble, probably wasn't advisable. "Who else but you would've made them look so much like the real thing, eh, my Lady?"

Marinette opened her mouth to argue back. It was only then that she seemed to come back to herself, realizing all that she had just said. All that she had just _revealed_.

She didn't immediately say anything, though her mouth remained open for several long moments. Then she abruptly sat down, buried her face in her lap, and uttered a muffled scream. It was so similar to her embarrassed reaction from the previous day, he had to keep from laughing - considering how ferocious his Lady could be, and how mad she already was at him, it most certainly wouldn't do him any favours!

She raised her head a fraction, glaring at him through fingers that were almost as red as her face. It was ridiculously easy to picture those blue eyes surrounded by their customary mask. " _Now look what you've made me do!_ " she hissed angrily at him.

He laughed outright at that. Not the safest option, but what else could he do? His Lady was next to him, and she cared enough to go into a righteous frenzy over his well-being, and she was also Marinette who made delicious cookies, and decorated them with his colours especially for _him_ \- could his life possibly get any better right now?

"Sorry, sorry..." he gasped through his laughter, seeing her glare a steady stream of dagger-edged-yoyos at him."It's just, I'm so glad that it's you! You saved me today, and carried me all the way to the nurse's office, and fussed over me, and brought me cookies - twice!" He gave her his best, Chat-like wink. "How much luckier can this cat get?"

She seemed somewhat mollified, though she still looked more than a little miffed at him. "If you hadn't already jeopardized your nine lives too many times, I'd take one off you as punishment," she huffily told him.

"I'd gladly give you as many as you request," he said, bobbing a little half-bow and noting, with pleasure, that her angry colouring seemed to have turned into a fierce blush. "In fact, I'd give you all of them, in return for another batch of those cookies - followed by a not-too-strenuous work-out and a nutritionally-balanced meal," he hastened to add, seeing her dart him a warning glance.

"After pulling a stunt like this, I don't think you deserve them," she haughtily informed him. Seeing the crestfallen look he gave her - Adrien Agreste was already _adorable_ , he should _not_ be able to do that ridiculously cute cat-with-drooping-ears expression on top of it! - she amended: "I might be able to bring you something else instead. My family's bakery makes healthier things too, you know. Like our special quiche with a low-calorie crust, all the local office-workers order it from us almost daily." She shouldn't be so lenient on him - she was still pretty mad - but the way he beamed all over his face at her, as if she were suddenly basking in the sun, made it all too easy to relent. "And I'll even throw in a few cheese danishes, as long as your kwami is the one who-"

Before she could finish, a small black shape burst out from beneath Adrien's shirt collar. "Yes, yes, a hundred times _yes!_ " Zipping over to float close in front of her, Plagg began grovelling in mid-air. "Thank you, thank you, _thank you!_ You're a goddess, an angel, a patron saint of pastries! The benevolence of the great Demeter was nothing compared t-"

"Plagg!" Tikki left Marinette's purse, hovering over the other kwami so she could glower down at him with folded paws. "Trust you to show up only when food has been mentioned! Where _were_ you when all this was happening in the library? You could've helped-"

"I _was_ helping!" If kwamis could pout, Plagg was doing it now. "Didn't you see me trying to guide your girl towards this idiot's pulse? Sue me for keeping the secret, like _she_ insisted! _You_ were the irresponsible one, hanging around out there in plain sight! Don't tell me that impersonating a rare red-leopard kitten still works for you whenever you get spotted!"

If it was possible, Tikki coloured beneath her already-puce complexion. "It was an emergency, at least I was being useful! How could you let this happen in the first place? You were probably too busy feeding _yourself_ to take care of your chosen!"

Plagg gave a careless shrug. "As if I'm as bossy as all that! The kid's a lost cause anyway, I've tried and failed to get him to appreciate camembert multiple times over, he just doesn't-"

"The smell might have brought me round," Adrien cut him off, pulling a disgusted face at the thought.

Marinette laughed, remembering how similar his reaction had been when he had told her of his kwami's food preference the night before. "I'm glad we didn't have to resort to that!"

"Me too." He looked steadily at her, with green eyes that she now recognized, even without the mask around them. "The vision I woke to was far more pleasant." The intensity of his gaze upon her made it clear just which 'view' he meant.

She flushed several shades darker than her pink jeans. This was so unfair - _how had she ever managed to just roll her eyes at Chat's pick-up lines?_

"So," she said, giving a chuckle that ineffectually hid her nerves. "A-are you f-feeling any better now, Adrien?"

He couldn't help but capitalize on the situation. "Never better, Princess," he said, giving her another playful wink.

She fluttered, then rallied enough to give him a stern glare. It fascinated him to see these two girls he knew so well, mingled into one. "With all you've put me through, I should ban you from patrol for at least the next-"

"Aw, paw-lease don't!" he pleaded, pressing his hands together in supplication. "I'm as fit as a fiddle - or as a _cat_ with a fiddle, you know I'm always ready to jump over the moon for you!"

"Hmph." Though she tried to look unimpressed, he could see the hint of a smile she fought to hold back. "Let's not let the dish run away with the spoon. Speaking of which, if you insist on turning up, we can at least make tonight's patrol as non-taxing as possible. I'll even feed you, if it will keep you from keeling over again. What should I bring? Quiche? You like that, right? I'll bring that, and what else? Sandwiches? Bread sticks? A few cheese danishes," she hurriedly added, seeing Plagg stir insistently beneath Adrien's collar; he settled again at her words. "I think our fruit tarts are pretty low in calories. Actually, most of our muffins and scones are-"

He wanted to kiss her for remembering that her father's quiche was his favourite. _Or maybe he just wanted to kiss her._ Tempting as it was, he had an even better idea.

Gazing lovingly at her, with an added eyebrow-wiggle for good measure, he said: "You're the only treat I need, Buginette."

That was _definitely_ too much Chat! Marinette went rigid, goggled at him, and made inarticulate noises, as if the cat had her tongue - or had made her eat her words!

He didn't dare remind her of his offer to marry her, or let her know that it still stood. That would make her swoon for sure! Although, he would certainly welcome the chance to return the favour, carrying _her_ to the nurse's office this time!

* * *

 _Author's note: this is for Aeon The Dimensional Girl, who requested a story where one of the characters got injured. Sorry, this isn't exactly what you asked for; I'll do it properly when the angst-o-meter has run down a bit more!_

 _Disclaimer, I have no real first-aid training, and I have no idea if any of this is remotely like proper procedure for when somebody faints, so please don't use this story as a guide. I have fainted before though, and it's not much fun at all!_

 _I got the name 'Louise Abelard' from characters in a touch-screen-based RPG I've recently been following, 'City of Love: Paris' (notice a similar theme in the things I currently like? ;) If you're into dating sim games, or even if you're not, give this one a try, it has a really intriguing story line and beautiful graphics!_

 _I realized I hadn't included any tongue-tied Marinette-isms in this story yet, how remiss of me! When I came up with that ba/itch joke, I couldn't resist putting it in, though I did cringe on her behalf. Sorry, Mari!_

 _I contradicted myself by having the school locked up for the weekend in the previous chapter, yet open to students in this one. I have heard that some French schools have lessons on Saturday mornings, so maybe that's when the lesson at the beginning of 'Glasses' took place, with the rest happening on the following Sunday?_ _Speaking of contrasts - or lack thereof - this is the second episode in a row where Tikki plays medic, as well as yet another chapter where Marinette yells at Adrien for not taking care of himself properly (see 'Autograph: Part Two'). I'll try to make sure I do something completely different in the next installment._

 _I can practically hear fans of my full-length Miraculous story howling for my blood, so I should up-date that one next. With some busy work-related times ahead of me, I don't know when that will be, so please be patient - there is plenty more to come! ~ W.J._


	11. Puppet (Part One)

**Chapter Eleven: Puppet (Part One)**

 _Ladybug manages to stop Puppeteer from possessing her partner. When she is forced to de-transform to keep from being controlled herself, Chat Noir must trade his Lady for his Princess, teaming up with an out-of-costume Marinette._

* * *

Ladybug stood impatiently outside the doors of Channel TVi's main soundstage, poised to burst through them. She knew an akuma was on the other side, armed with the power to manipulate others against their will, able to recruit her former foes against her - and her most trusted ally as well.

Speaking of whom, she was waiting on Chat Noir, who had already used his special attack and now had to let his kwami recharge. He had called her to find out the location of the akuma, promising to be there soon, but he still wasn't here yet. She danced anxiously on the balls of her feet, straining to forge ahead. The longer she hesitated, the more likely she was to lose her partner to the opposing side! Not only that: as Manon's babysitter, she felt a certain responsibility. Because she had given the little girl one of the dolls she had so persistently begged for, she had indirectly caused this akumatization. As she pictured Manon's endearing puppy-eyed expression, her patience finally wore out. Gathering her resolve and stepping back for a run-up, she hurled herself at the doors, charging into the studio beyond.

She was confronted by a line-up straight out of her own rogue's gallery. With a pang, she saw Lady Wifi glowering back at her with Alya's gaze. Nathanael sneered at her from behind Evillustrator's mask; Lieutenant Raincomprix stared impassively back at her through Rogercop's visor.

Presiding over them all was Puppeteer. In her guise as a villainess, Manon's precocious smile had been transformed into a sinister leer. Ladybug clenched her teeth and balled her fists in rage. If she ever met Papillion in person, the first thing she would do was aim her yoyo directly at his _face_ for making her fight so many people she personally knew - people who were _important_ _to her_. She braced herself as Puppeteer eyed her maliciously, letting out a shrill giggle that was spookily like Manon's innocent laughter.

"Ladybug, you came, and you brought the doll! Give it here so I can win the game!"

Ladybug suppressed a shiver as she caught sight of Puppeteer's eyes, which were purple with gold irises. If she tried her puppy-dog look with those, it _definitely_ wouldn't work! "Manon, this is not a game!" she tried to reason, knowing it was probably futile - she had enough trouble managing the mischievous child under normal circumstances. "Papillion is trying to-"

"Yes, it _is_ a game!" Puppeteer instantly retorted, stamping her foot in an all-too-familiar gesture. She had done the exact same thing last week, when Marinette had insisted she have milk instead of soda with her after-school snack, as Ms Chamanck had instructed; faced with the threat of a full-on tantrum, she had relented and let her have a _very_ small glass. " _I_ say we're playing, and since it's _my_ game, _I_ should win!"

Ladybug winced, remembering how Manon had complained that she always lost their games when she was given the villain dolls to play with. Now was _not_ the time to let her win - not with stakes this high!

"Give me the doll," Puppeteer commanded, "or I'll send Chat Noir to get it for me!"

The bottom dropped out of Ladybug's stomach when she saw the Chat Noir doll in the little girl's hand. She only had a few seconds to get the puppet away from her before she could cast her spell on it - and there were no less than three foes standing by, ready to fight her if she attempted any such thing. Lady Wifi had been difficult enough to face, even with Chat Noir there to help - facing four powerful combatants on her own would stack the odds far too much against her!

She swept her eyes over the scene as quickly as she could, searching for inspiration. Should she use her Lucky Charm? Chat Noir wasn't even here yet - though considering the way Puppeteer gleefully clutched his miniature with malicious intent, maybe that was a _good_ thing! Still, she wanted to save up her special attack until she absolutely _had_ to use it. If she could just distract the akuma somehow, perhaps she could grab-

"Hm-?" Speaking of distraction, Ladybug spied something on top of a nearby packing case that looked _very_ familiar. It was only a tiny plastic stick, the kind usually left discarded from a piece of candy, white and green in colour; but the instant she saw it, it reminded her of-

"Ha, this could work," she murmured to herself. A moment later, she threw herself across the room, moving as fast as she could.

She felt something whoosh past her, heard a microphone stand behind her rattle, then become eerily still as Lady Wifi's pause-icon struck it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Evillustrator touch his stylus to the tablet mounted on his wrist; but before he could draw anything, his view was blocked by Rogercop who strode forward, firing manacles at her. She dodged them, deflected a few with her yoyo, side-stepped another pause symbol, then sprung into a hand-stand atop the packing case. Fingers curling around the tiny object, she hurled it in Puppeteer's direction.

None of the villains had predicted this move; they couldn't shield their manipulator in time. Puppeteer squealed as it struck the doll in her hand, almost knocking it from her grasp. However, she retained her grip on it, righting herself with a triumphant smirk. "Stinky cheater!" she accused. "If you won't play fair, I'll just have to make you play against your friend! Chat Noir, come to life!"

" _NO_!"

Chat Noir chose that exact moment to arrive. He lunged at the doll that now hovered in midair over Puppeteer's head. But it was too late: her wand was raised and a flash of blue light pulsed at its star-tipped point, enveloping the puppet.

Chat Noir ran at the villainess for all he was worth. He kept running, and kept running. At last he slowed and came to a stop, looking uncertain. He raised his arms and waved them experimentally, as if he were checking for invisible shackles. Evidently finding nothing, he turned to his partner with a gleeful grin.

"Hey, I've got no strings to hold me d-" he began, in a sing-song voice.

"No." Ladybug held up both hands, as if to ward off his words; her head was bowed in a plea for mercy that no akuma so far had managed to elicit from her. "No, don't you _dare_. You are _not_ allowed to recite Disney lines while we fight akuma! If you _ever_ start singing a Disney song in the middle of a battle, I am _never_ going to be seen in public with you ever again! Promise me that you'll never so much as _paraphrase_ a Disney song again. _Promise_."

"Uh... okay?" Chat Noir was a little taken aback by the strength of her protest. He dutifully placed his hand over his heart, making a not-so-solemn pledge. "I promise, no strings attached." Ladybug huffed at the pun, but otherwise seemed to have been placated.

Puppeteer, meanwhile, was implacable. Emitting a high-pitched whine of fury, she zapped the doll repeatedly with her wand.

Ladybug struggled not to wince. Each of those dolls had a _lot_ of work in them, especially the Chat Noir one with all the little details in its costume, and she already had _one_ puppet to repair. To her great relief, the doll didn't burst at the seams; it simply turned over a few times in the air, then flopped to the floor, landing flat on its back. Chat Noir rubbed his head in sympathy, but otherwise seemed unaffected.

Puppeteer let out another angry scream. "Why won't it _work_! Papillion, why won't it work? You _promised_ I would have powers that would make me win the game!" A purple visor momentarily flared around her eyes; when it cleared, she glared straight at Ladybug, pointing her wand for good measure. "You _cheated_! What did you do to my doll?!"

Ladybug chuckled, unable to resist the smug smile that spread across her lips. Perhaps it was cruel to use such a trick to beat a child. But under the circumstances, it was more than justified - and it certainly satisfied her competitive streak! "Serves you right for stealing toys that weren't yours," she retorted. "For your information, it didn't work because that is no longer a Chat Noir doll: it's a _Copycat doll_."

Puppeteer lifted the doll from the ground. A white-and-green lolly stick was attached to the corner of its stitched-on mouth.

Chat Noir stared at it for a moment, then doubled up laughing. "Of course, it looks nothing _like_ me anymore! Was it your handiwork, my Lady? That is _sew_ clever!"

Ladybug rolled her eyes. "Give me a chance and I'll fix your mouth as well; it could use a few stitches to keep it closed."

Meanwhile, Puppeteer snatched at the lolly-stick and tried to pull it off the doll. It seemed to be stuck fast; after a few exasperated grunts, the it remained firmly fixed in place. At her angry howls Evillustrator stepped forward, the eraser-end of his stylus at the ready. However, Puppeteer held up a hand, halting him.

"No, I'll keep this doll, even if it's broken." The heroes watched her warily as a sly smile appeared upon her face; a kid that young should not be able to look downright _evil_ like that, even if they _were_ possessed by an akuma. "I'll just have a Copycat puppet instead!"

A shudder and a muffled squeak came from across the room. Chat Noir realized, to his dismay, that a figure was crouching in the shadow of a catering table over against the wall. "Oh no, is that-"

" _Theo_?!" Ladybug had spotted him too. "What is _he_ doing here!"

Judging by the headset he wore when he half-crawled out from under the table, he was working as part of the tv production crew. He emerged from his hiding place, looked beseechingly at Ladybug, glanced fearfully at the akuma, and then took off towards the studio doors.

"Copycat, come to life!"

"No!"

The heroes each took two steps towards Puppeteer, then halted. They were too late: Theo was wrapped in a piercing blue light mid-run. A moment later, Copycat turned away from the doors and stepped into a defensive crouch, barring the exit. A lolly-stick was clenched between his teeth as he grinned maliciously at the pair.

"Oh no, not again!" Chat Noir moaned.

"Multiply that times four," Ladybug reminded him. Lady Wifi, Evillustrator, and Rogercop were also shaping up for a fight, the ring of villains surrounding them on all sides.

Chat Noir twirled his staff up into a guard position. "Five against two isn't fair. Though at least you still have me," he added, giving his partner a sidelong wink.

Ladybug smiled wryly to herself. _Yes, at least there was that._ "Just as well; I didn't really want to have to knock the stuffing out of you."

He sidled up to her, his eyes never leaving Copycat, who was brandishing his own baton menacingly. "Any idea where the akuma is?" he asked in a whisper. Ladybug had been on the scene longer than he had (damn Plagg for having to savour his cheese!), she might have had time to notice something he hadn't.

Ladybug scrutinized Puppeteer carefully, secretly using how well she knew Manon to search for the talisman. The wand caught her eye; Manon had one just like it, she always brought it along to the bakery in case Alya was there to play 'Unicorn Princess' with her. "The wand," she whispered back. "I'm pretty sure the akuma is in her wand."

Puppeteer brandished the item in question at them. "Give me the doll!" she demanded. "I want your Miraculous!"

Chat Noir stuck his tongue out at her; Ladybug counted herself lucky to have an equally-childish ally on hand to help her with negotiations. "Nyah! You didn't say _please_!"

"I said _give it!_ " Puppeteer shouted back at him. Acting upon her will, the four villains darted foward as one.

Ladybug readied her yoyo. "You want it, squirt?" she asked, purposefully employing a nickname she knew Manon hated - _sorry,_ but it wasn't like she intended to use it under any other circumstances! She held up the doll in her own likeness, dangling it temptingly for Puppeteer and her minions to see. "Come and get it!"

Lady Wifi was closing in on them, Evillustrator and Rogercop not far behind. Ladybug loosed her weapon directly at Lady Wifi's feet; the villain, surprised, stopped in her tracks. The yoyo struck the floor and bounced upward, latching onto the lighting rig above. Having anchored her line, Ladybug swung across the room, forcing Lady Wifi and Evillustrator to hastily dodge out of her way. Her trajectory took her straight towards Rogercop; he tried to fire shackles at her, but they ineffectually sprayed either side of her. She used her momentum to slide between his feet. She was past all of them, except for-

Copycat was running at her, his baton raised, ready to strike. _Shoot_ , her yoyo was still secured to the rig-

A second baton extended sideways, forcefully sweeping Copycat aside. Ladybug winked appreciatively at her own cat, as she snatched up a tape-dispenser she had noticed earlier atop the packing-case. Then she sprinted for the studio doors, disappearing through them.

Lady Wifi, Rogercop and Evillustrator instantly took off after her. Chat Noir started after them, intending to back up his partner.

A baton was flung in his path. Copycat shook his head at him, switching the lolly-stick from one side of his mouth to the other. "You and I are having a cat fight," he said.

Behind them, Puppeteer giggled. "If you won't be my puppet, I'll just have your Miraculous!" she declared, Copycat mimicking her words as she spoke.

Chat Noir grimaced. It looked like his Lady was on her own; hopefully she had big plans for that roll of tape. "I guess this is why they say to never work with children and animals." He faced Copycat, his staff held poised and ready. "If you want a rematch, step right up to get beaten again!"

The two cats circled each other, each waiting for an opening. After a tense few moments, Copycat lunged at Chat Noir's side; he parried the blow, searching for any difference between this and the last time he had fought his opponent. As far as he could tell, Copycat's moves were just as quick, agile, and accomplished as they had been back then (not that he would ever give his doppelganger any such compliments out loud). The only alteration this time around was the little controller-imp sitting on his shoulder.

 _Hm, interesting._ Over Copycat's shoulder, he could see Puppeteer watching them both attentively. Though Copycat seemed to be using his own battle prowess to engage in the fight - there was no way a little kid could know his abilities this well, it was bad enough that an adult like Theo could effectively imitate them - it must have required some concentration from his manipulator to keep him active. _Perhaps he could take down the pawn by distracting the queen..._

He traded a few more blows with Copycat, discreetly drawing a little closer with each strike. While his opponent was still set slightly off-balance by his last riposte, he pounced at him, ditching any sort of swash-buckling in favour of a direct tackle. Caught by surprise, Copycat was knocked over backwards. The two combatants rolled, tussling together; the lolly-stick went flying. The pair finally lurched to their feet and sprung apart.

"Huh-?" Puppeteer looked carefully from one cat to the other. They were absolutely identical; she couldn't tell which one was hers. "Copycat, which are you?"

"I am!" both cats said as one, whirling around to salute her. They turned on each other in unison. "No, _I_ am!" they said again in a single chorus, both pointing at themselves with one claw-tipped finger.

Puppeteer gave an exasperated growl, gaze switching back and forth between them in confusion. "I'm only controlling one of you; I command you to tell me which it is!"

"It's me!" both cats declared, raising their hands like a pair of students competing for the teacher's attention.

Puppeteer's growl turned into a angry scream. "Fine! Whichever of you is lying, I'll beat you up all the same! Go, my Copycat!"

At her words, both cats leapt at each other. Their actions were perfectly mirrored. Chat Noir was thankful that Adrien got so much sparring practice during his fencing lessons; his reactions were just quick enough to be able to read his opponent's moves and replicate them almost simultaneously. He was copying Copycat - _what an irony_! As they both kicked out, their strikes met and deflected the other's; the following swipes of their batons locked their weapons before they roughly shoved away from each other, landing in matched stances.

"This is so _unfair_!" Puppeteer complained. "Copycat, whichever one you are, use Cataclysm!"

Chat Noir held his claws up ready, watching Copycat do the same. He had seen the akumatized version use his own signature attack before; he knew that he was capable of it, and would have no qualms about using it on a person under Puppeteer's direction.

"Catacl-"

Before either cat could finish uttering the word that summoned up their greatest power, a baton hurtled across the space between them, slamming into a set of black-clad solar plexus. The victim was thrown backward by the impact, slamming into the wall behind him; he dropped limply to the floor, knocked out cold.

The victor caught his staff on the rebound, casually spinning it in triumph. "That's why you don't send a copy to do a cat's job!" he jubilantly declared, admiring his own gleaming claws.

Puppeteer frowned at him, evidently trying to command him; when it didn't work, she realized this was the _real_ Chat Noir. She screwed up her eyes, clenched the wand in her fist and stamped her feet, in a very good approximation of an evil fairy. "No fair, no fair!" she hollered. " _I_ was supposed to win!"

"I won fair and square," Chat Noir firmly pointed out. "Who dares wins - and I dare to take that wand as my prize!"

He leaped at Puppeteer. Now was his chance to get her talisman, while none of the other villains was here to protect her. He could snatch the wand away from her, breaking Papillion's hold on her; then all that Ladybug needed to do was-

Just when he _didn't_ need it, he was interrupted by the studio doors slamming open. He changed direction mid-leap, landing on the floor and adopting a defensive stance.

"Chat Noir...?" Ladybug asked, looking uncertainly between him and Puppeteer.

He smiled ruefully. _Hadn't she learned to recognize him yet?_ "Your one and only, Buginette!"

She relaxed visibly at the nickname, which only _he_ knew to use for her. Chat Noir grinned back at her; his smile disappeared as he noticed that the loop of cord at her waist was empty. "Where is the-"

"The doll is off doing some sightseeing," Ladybug informed him, turning her attention upon a very nervous-looking Puppeteer. "While it's away, I think it's time Puppeteer let us borrow her w-"

Before she could take another step towards their unprotected foe, the doors swung open again, and Lady Wifi appeared. The Ladybug doll was clutched in her hand.

Ladybug whirled her yoyo, sizing up the doll-thief. "No you d-"

She was forced to duck a red-and-blue streak that barely missed her; Rogercop had returned. Chat Noir raised his staff just in time to ward off a spinning buzz-saw, drawn for him by Evillustrator. While they were thus preoccupied, Lady Wifi zoomed over to her mistress on a glowing icon. Kneeling at Puppeteer's feet like a loyal vassal, she offered up the Ladybug puppet.

The villainess took it, chortling gleefully. "I'm the one who won!"

"She knows how to pun," Chat Noir muttered under his breath. He glanced worriedly at his partner.

Ladybug, seeing the likeness of herself in Puppeteer's grasp, froze where she was. Chat Noir also tensed. _Would he be forced to fight against his partner?_ Sure, it was probably fair trade, since she had faced him while he was under the control of a villain once before - he still didn't know what he'd done while influenced by Dark Cupid, wasn't sure he _ever_ wanted to know - but he'd never had to face off against _her_ before, not while he retained his own sense of awareness.

 _Could he...? He wasn't sure if he... if he'd be able to-_

He'd have to find out soon enough. Puppeteer tossed the doll in the air, wand upraised.

"Ladybug, come-"

Before she had said so much as a syllable, Ladybug was already moving. She abruptly whirled round and ran _away_ from Puppeteer. The other villains didn't make any move to stop her; they didn't need to, she would become one of them soon enough. Chat Noir could only watch on helplessly as Puppeteer finished her spell.

"-to life!"

On the akuma's last word, the studio doors slammed shut behind Ladybug. A flash of rosy light was visible beneath them.

They waited, and waited... and waited. The doors remained closed. No one reappeared through them, neither hero nor villain.

Chat Noir slowly let out the breath he had been holding. _Where was she?_ Shouldn't she be bound to come back to Puppeteer? Hadn't that flash of light... _no wait_ , Puppeteer's spell created a _blue_ light, not _pink_. He had seen that flash before, through the gap around the door to the Paris Grand's cloakroom. That had looked more like the light made by Ladybug's own Miraculous powers; hers were rosy-red, just like his own were his personal shade of green, his Cataclysm and his-

- _transformation_. He suddenly understood what she had done: she had de-transformed as soon as she was out of sight. The spell cast on Ladybug wouldn't matter if there was _no Ladybug_ ; it wouldn't apply to... whoever was under the mask. That person must now look quite different from the doll in Puppeteer's grasp.

Puppeteer had been waiting expectantly for her newest toy-soldier to appear. As the seconds ticked by and no one came, the silence was broken by her angry screech. "Where _is_ _she?!_ I _won!_ She's supposed to do what _I_ say, she should be here giving me her Miraculous! She cheated, she cheated _again_! Papillion, you broke your promise! She was supposed to let me win, I want to w-"

Chat Noir sincerely hoped that, like most kids her age, Puppeteer was afraid of the dark. He aimed his baton across the room, striking the main power switch with purr-fect accuracy. The soundstage was instantly plunged into pitch-black darkness.

His strategy had been sound: Puppeteer now seemed to be wailing in fear instead of rage. The other villains might have been able to give her a light - Evillustrator could draw her a lamp, Lady Wifi likely had a light on her phone, and Rogercop was, uh, kind of glowy - but she was too busy panicking to make use of them, leaving them standing passively in the dark.

Darting a glance at the opposite wall, Chat Noir saw that the neon-green shape huddled on the floor seemed to be stirring, likely roused by his mistress' shouting. Copycat was coming round. Not giving the only one besides himself who had night-vision time to recover, Chat sprinted across the studio, easily dodging equipment and flailing super-villains. The room was briefly illuminated as the doors swung open, admitting the brightness from the hall; then his black silhouette slipped through them and they snapped shut again, blocking out the light. Chat snatched up a broom from a nearby cleaner's cart and passed it through the door handles for good measure; it wouldn't do much if Copycat used his Cataclysm on it, but it just might buy them some much-needed time.

With that much accomplished, he turned to face the corridor. _Where did Ladybug go?_ he worriedly asked himself. She was currently wandering the building out of costume, with five villains on the hunt for her - he needed to find her, fast! But how would he know when he had found her? He didn't know who she was under the mask! Since the building had been evacuated, the only person left who wasn't Puppeteer, her puppets, or himself, must be Ladybug. That meant he would know her instantly when he found her... and so would the akuma.

His sense of urgency redoubled itself. Time was of the essence - he had to locate her before Puppeteer's minions did, and she could be anywhere!

He surveyed the deserted hall. Which way would she have gone? The lifts were to the right, but he doubted she would have left the building, or even gone as far as another floor - though she might be deprived of her powers, Ladybug was no quitter! Hadn't she come back to free him from Antibug, even though her kwami hadn't yet had enough time to recharge? Now it was _his_ turn to help _her_ out. Perhaps he could offer her kwami some of the spare cheese he carried... even if Plagg wouldn't be happy about it later.

He turned left and walked along the corridor, going as quietly as he could, listening out for telltale signs of any presence beside himself. She wouldn't know if he was him or Copycat when she saw him, so she would likely stay hidden; it was up to him to find _her_.

As he passed a nearby door, he heard the softest possible intake of breath. His cat-ears instantly swivelled in the direction it came from. The door was ajar; he could just make out a single eye peering at him through the gap. It disappeared as soon as she realized he had spotted her.

He smiled to himself. He _knew_ she wouldn't have gone far. He sidled up to the door, leaning against the wall beside it.

"My Lady?" he addressed the unseen girl. He heard a gasp and a slight clatter, as if something - bottles perhaps? it sounded kind of like glass - had fallen over. _Whoops,_ he was scaring her! Time to prove that he was him, not his mangy doppelganger. "It's me, Buginette," he informed her. He received only cautious silence in reply, as he had expected; luckily, he had an extra ace up his sleeve. "I'll leave you alone if you want, though I'm here to help. May I remind you that _only your wishes are my command?_ " That was what he had said to her, just before he parted from her earlier, to give Plagg his refill. He _really_ hoped she remembered his words!

A relieved sigh came from behind the door. "It's you," a familiar voice said, barely speaking above a whisper. "Thank goodness."

"No imposter here," he warmly reassured her. "And no puppets either, I'm guessing. Did you de-transform before her spell could take?"

"That's right." In an uncharacteristically self-conscious tone, she added "I'd, uh, come out and prove that she didn't get me... b-but, I, um, I'm not in costume, s-so..."

"I can take your word for it." He paused, wondering if now was the right time to ask her to confide in him. The last time he had suggested it, when they been fighting against Lady Wifi, it had been the closest she had yet come to having her cover blown. This instance had gone even further than that; given the circumstances, perhaps now wasn't exactly the best time for trust-building exercises. _Still..._ "Um, if you want, I can keep your identity a secret. I mean, you don't have to, it's up to you, only if you want to-"

She heaved a great sigh. "There's not much point in me coming out of here. I can't purify the akuma like this, and I can't transform without her controlling me. Looks like I'm stuck this way, possibly for good. I'm really sorry, Chat Noir, I stuffed up and I-"

He was sorely tempted to throw open the door and give the girl on the other side a comforting pat on the shoulder, a strong hug, a breath-stealing kiss - whatever would make her feel better. He hadn't heard her express doubts like this since their very first battle.

"Hey, it's okay," he told her, smiling kindly at the crack in the door. "You did really well - you were quick enough to get out of there and de-transform before she could get to you. And you already stopped her from getting a hold on _me_. Together, we still have a chance."

Another sigh issued out of the darkened room. Despite his night-vision, he could see no trace of her; she must have been standing directly behind the door, blocked from his view. "Not 'together'. I'm afraid you'll have to do this one on your own, Chaton. I'm completely useless without my transformation, I can't-"

"Don't worry," he told her, "I can handle it. Think of it as payback for having to do all the heavy work against Dark Cupid."

"That was different." He could hear the frustration in her voice; whether it was brought about by the current situation or his mention of the past akuma, he wasn't sure. "You took a hit-"

"It's not so different," he insisted. "You defended me, didn't you? You set this up by turning her Chat Noir doll into a Copycat doll. I mean, that was pure _genius_!"

To his delight, a chuckle drifted through the doorway. "I'll be the first person to ever win a Noble Prize for throwing a lolly-stick!"

He chuckled in agreement. "You got it! You must have a whole lot of luck, to have the change to the doll take as much as it did. She tried to pull it straight back off again, but it just _stuck_ there. Do you think that was because of your creation powers or something?"

"Uh... maybe..." she said. Something about her voice sounded unconvinced.

He pondered it some more. They talked briefly about their powers to each other now and then, but they hadn't really gone any more in-depth than when they had first met, learning to use their abilities in the field - _literally_. Now, he was rapidly forming a theory in real time. "Perhaps you constantly have a strong creative ability, even out of costume? Though it's not like I go around destroying things when I'm not suited up. Maybe it's just _luck_ that the stick-thing worked? You didn't have to change the doll that much, all of them were already made to look and be just like their counterparts."

He grinned to himself, thinking of his earlier exchange with the dolls' creator. He had known for a while now that Marinette was an exceptional designer and seamstress, but this had taken her talents to a whole new level. He could say first-hand that her Chat Noir doll was very accurate!

"It's just a blessing that you could make it work," he said out loud. "You'd think the only one who would have that kind of influence over the dolls would be their maker, Marinette."

A faint clatter came from behind the door, followed by a loud thud. Chat Noir immediately straightened, startled by the noise. "Ladybug? Are you alright in there?"

There were some scuffling sounds; then her voice said, a little breathlessly "Y-yes, I'm fine! It's not like I fell over or anything... I'm not clumsy, I j-just-"

He couldn't help but smile. It was kind of strange, talking to someone who was his partner, yet not; the _girl_ behind the _Lady_. It might be because he had just been talking about her, but the way she had fumbled and stammered kind of reminded him of-

"Of course," he added, jokingly, "if you _are_ Marinette, it makes perfect sense."

Deafening silence. That was all he got following this statement. He slowly began to worry; had she slipped in the dark and bumped her head without his noticing?

"Uh, my Lady?" he asked, concernedly. "Are you... sure you're alright? You went really quiet all of a sudden. Sorry if I annoyed you with my joking, I just..."

He trailed off, still getting no response. Had he said something wrong? Had he offended her? He couldn't see how could have done, because really, there was nothing offensive about the possibility of her being Marinette - quite the opposite, in fact. She already knew Marinette, didn't she? She must, seeing as she'd sent him to protect Marinette from the Evillustrator, and had gotten to her house before him earlier today. Surely she knew that any comparisons to Marinette could only be a compliment? So why was she acting weirdly? Why did she-

A new thought caught him unawares, stunning him. Was the reason she was upset because... he had gotten _too close to the truth?_ What if she... _could it really be possible that she was..._

"You, uh... y-you're not... _really_ Marinette... are you...?"

More silence. The lack of _any_ kind of reply was beginning to sound more and more like unspoken confirmation.

"...Princess...?" he dared to try, experimentally.

He finally got something, even if it was only a startled squeak; a _very_ familiar startled squeak. He made no sound in reply, it was _his_ turn to clam up completely. He remained standing by the door, flabbergasted, with absolutely no clue what to do next.

 _Had he just... accidentally guessed who she was...? Could she be..._

A slim hand, bare without its red-spotted glove, appeared in the doorway, just a little below his head-height. The door slowly swung open, revealing a face with two blue eyes that watched him warily. It dawned on him how momentous this was, to be seeing them without their red-spotted mask for the first time.

 _No wait, this_ definitely _wasn't the first time_...

The gap widened, and the girl who was his Lady came into full view.

"It's me," Marinette said, heaving a weary sigh. Seeing the stunned expression on Chat Noir's face, she attempted a smile, quirking an eyebrow at him. The gesture was so familiar, yet so unexpected here and now; if that wasn't enough to send him into another level of shock-induced paralysis, her next words certainly did it.

"Shouldn't you be bowing before your Princess?"

* * *

 _Author's note: did anyone here order a reveal with a side of Marichat? ;)_

 _I've spoken with others on this site who are a bit tired of Chat constantly getting possessed by the akuma. Three times was a bit much, wasn't it? In some other tv series, forcing the heroine to fight against her trusted partner might be close to the climax, if not the actual climax, saved up for the big finale. In_ Miraculous _, it's almost becoming a commonplace occurrence. Which is great in terms of being unpredictable and breaking cliche, but... I feel really sorry for Chat._

 _In light of that, I took a great deal of pleasure in imagining how the battle with Puppeteer might have gone differently, if Chat Noir had stayed on Ladybug's side; also, it was fun to give him a rematch with Copycat. For all we know, Theo could have really been hiding under a table throughout the fight; he was shown working on the set of Alec Cataldi's show during Kung Food, and he must have pretty good technical skills to be employed by XY._

 _I have to admit, I took quite a few liberties with this chapter, more than I would usually take. I already had Rogercop and Evillustrator present when Ladybug arrived at the studio; I only went back and watched the episode this is based on after I wrote that bit, realizing that they weren't there until after Chat Noir got possessed. By then I couldn't be bothered writing them out, so I left it as it was, despite the inconsistency. Also, I had Puppeteer remain in the same studio when Lady Wifi returns to her with the Ladybug doll; it made sense for her to stay and watch Chat/Cat fight each other. I then had her immediately cast the spell on the doll, rather than allowing time for Ladybug to use her Lucky Charm, meaning the awesome five-way fight no longer takes place. This is probably the chapter where I changed events from the official cannon most drastically so far, sorry about that - I only messed with it for a bit of fun!_

 _Speaking of which, I got a review from a reader who found one of the previous chapters too implausible, according to them. In this particular case, I was playing around with a certain concept and manipulated events to fit it a little bit; though I think I still managed to keep everyone reasonably in-character._

 _My aim with this series of one-shots is to give readers as much variety as possible. I try to alternate between which hero finds out the other's identity first; Chat was the forerunner this time, it's been Marinette other times, and I occasionally have them realize simultaneously. I also try to switch the tone from drama to angst to comedy from one chapter to the next, not reusing the same themes back to back. I can understand if people like one chapter more than another, that is only natural. If a particular chapter doesn't tickle your fancy, perhaps an upcoming or previous one will please you more._

 _I only post things that I wouldn't mind reading myself, though perhaps my taste is a little eclectic! The only rules I gave myself for this series of one-shots were 1) feature a lost object, 2) include a reveal, and 3) try to make it believable. I'm just exercising my creativity, having fun while remaining respectful of the original series; I hope everyone who comes along with me enjoys the ride!_

 _I guess I should start writing Puppet: Part Two._

 _~ W.J._


	12. Puppet (Part Two)

**Chapter Twelve: Puppet (Part Two)**

 _Ladybug manages to stop Puppeteer from possessing her partner. When she is forced to de-transform to keep from being controlled herself, Chat Noir must trade his Lady for his Princess, teaming up with an out-of-costume Marinette._

* * *

This was the longest Chat had ever been silent - at least, when he was around his Lady.

 _No, that wasn't true at all._ He was usually really quiet in class, he was a good student, he seldom spoke out of turn during lessons, and Marinette sat right behind him. And Marinette was Ladybug.

Marinette was Ladybug. _Marinette_ was _Ladybug._

 _Marinette. Was. Lady. Bug._

Nope, still not processing. It might take a while - a very, _very_ long while - to come to terms with-

"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

Chat Noir re-focused the glazed green eyes he had fixed on the middle-distance as he processed this incredible discovery. He found that Marinette was smirking at him, lips turned up in that knowing way that was _so her_ ; despite how she nervously twisted her hands together, in a manner that was entirely _the other her_.

 _Wait a minute - Marinette was Ladybug!_

Hadn't he just been thinking how favourably his Lady compared to his Princess? Hadn't he just suggested that she might be naturally creative in both her civilian and costumed forms, and who could he possibly think of who was more creative than _Marinette_? (His father didn't count, and frankly, his classmate left a lot of professional designers trailing in her wake.) _He_ was the one who had considered she could be Marinette, regarded it as fully plausible that she was _possibly_ Marinette. As it turned out, she really _was_ Marinette. Talented, considerate, responsible _Marinette_ was his bold, quick-witted, courageous _Ladybug_.

These two _incredible_ girls were the exact same person _\- and she just made a cat pun!_

Slowly, he felt his mouth rearrange itself from a perfect 'O' of surprise into a sideways 'D', cracking into an ecstatic smile.

 _Rattle rattle rattle!_

Chat gave a jolt, his tail standing out straight behind him. At the same moment, he saw Marinette's blue eyes widen in alarm. Another loud clatter echoed down the hall. Someone was banging on the studio doors, trying to get out.

 _Whoever they were, they would be coming after_ her _._

Acting faster than he was thinking, Chat Noir seized Marinette by the arm, eased her back through the door, followed her inside, and shut it behind him. Pressing his ear - his kitty one - to the wooden panelling, he listened intently. After a few more nerve-jangling crashes, the noises stopped. He waited another minute, but only heard silence.

He let out a sigh of relief. He relaxed for a nanosecond; then he hastily drew his fingers back, feeling his claws momentarily snag in soft fabric. He'd still had his hand on Marinette's shoulder.

Perhaps startled by his sudden movement, she teetered on the spot. As she moved, her shin nudged a mop that was standing upright against the wall, knocking it towards her. He caught it before it could hit her, the bristles tickling her ear and making her jump; she nearly stumbled over several bottles and boxes that were littered around her feet. Belatedly realizing that everything around him appeared to be tinted green and he was the only one with night-vision, he caught hold of her again, this time by the elbow, to keep her from tripping.

"Hang on-" He spied a cord hanging from the ceiling and pulled it. The next instant, he and Marinette were blinking at each other under the glare of a bare light-bulb.

What he had taken for an empty room was actually a janitor's closet. Cleaning supplies were littered around the cramped space, arranged on shelves or stacked on the floor in neat piles. Marinette had already unwittingly knocked over several packets and bottles, explaining the clatters he had heard before.

Realizing he was still 'hanging on' to the string that served as a light switch, as well as still supporting her by the elbow though it was no longer dark, he hastily lowered both hands. "S-sorry, that wasn't... I-I mean, I didn't mean that t-to be a pun, I just..."

Marinette stared at him as if he had just grown two heads (it was _her_ who had become two people!) and gave a sardonic snort, lowering herself onto an overturned bucket that served as a makeshift seat. "That _would_ be the first time. This must _really_ have you out of sorts."

She kept looking at him, watching for some further reaction. He gazed right back at her, seeing her anew. No, not anew, he'd seen her - _both hers_ \- plenty of times before. Just differently. Though she was still the same. They both were. _Gah - this was taking a lot of getting used to!_

"Don't worry about your faithful knight, my Lady - or should that be Princess?" In a bid for time as he desperately tried to adjust to all of this, he began to babble. "Either way, one can't argue with your obvious air of distinction. But if you're a lady of royalty, which one are you? Perhaps fair Snow White, with her hair black as a cat, lips as red as a ladybug?"

He was extremely gratified when Marinette - meek, mild-mannered _Marinette_ \- rolled her eyes at him. " _Seriously_? You are _so_ lucky you didn't just say anything about 'white as snow'! Do you really have to-"

"No, wait, I've got it!" He was delighted by her reaction, and hoping he could surpass it. "Anyone who sees us would say that we're obviously Beauty and the Beast!" He raised a clawed hand in a dramatic beast-like pose, illustrating his point.

This elicited a groan. "You are just- What is _with_ this whole 'princess' thing _anyway?!_ "

"Or maybe Cinderella," he went on, as if he hadn't heard her (he most certainly had), "who used magic to get ready for the ball? Given our current surroundings, that would be the most appropriate. No need to do any cleaning just to fit the part; though if you do, you might want to whistle while you-"

"Stop." Marinette held up her hand, in a perfect repeat of her earlier gesture; the lack of a red glove was the only difference. "This better not be leading to a Disney reference, or I will personally turn you into Sleeping Beauty." The slim fingers curled into a threatening fist.

Though the ring on his finger made him more than an easy match for her - _probably_ \- he held up his own hands defensively. "Then I won't say bibbity-boppity-boo." When her fist swiped half-heartedly at him, he backpedalled hastily, rubbing his newly-bruised arm. "No, I won't. I promised, didn't I? Besides, the cat in that film was a villain, and I'm not a bad guy - unlike some _other cat_ I could mention."

She let out a breath that was half-huff, half-sigh. "Since Theo became an evil cat-clone because I didn't show up to the unveiling of his statue, I can hardly blame him. And I even made the dolls that Puppeteer is using. Some hero _I_ turned out to be." She glanced morosely up at him. "I guess it's 'Princess,' not 'Lady'," she said, in reply to his earlier question. "Possibly for 'ever after'. How fitting: I need to be saved right now."

He stooped so that his head was level with hers, gazing concernedly at her. "Never you, Buginette," he insisted. He paused, blinked heavily, then smirked broadly to himself. "Ha! Bug-inette! The end of Lady-Bug, and half of Mar-inette! I didn't even know that, and I still-"

"Enjoy the joke while you can," she muttered. "That was the end of 'Bug' alright - the last of Ladybug. I honestly don't think she ever really existed."

"Wha-?" He was shocked by how hard she was taking this. "What are you _talking_ about?! You are-"

"Look at me, Chat!" She gestured at her pink capris and black jacket. He was already very familiar with the outfit; now that he looked more closely, he noticed that the jacket had a polka-dotted lining, and pink was really just a lighter shade of- "This is _not_ superhero material!" she interrupted his inner fashion-review. "You don't know me - I mean, _this_ me - but if you did, you'd realize how ridiculous it is that I was ever able to vault over roofs, or somersault between tall buildings, or swing a yoyo without accidentally demolishing half a city block. It's not like any of that heroic stuff was ever actually _me_. That was just the power of the Miraculous, and Tikki's doing - not _me_."

At the word 'Tikki', the purse she wore on her hip ( _the same way she slung her yoyo!_ ) opened a fraction. A red kwami was nestled inside, clutching a half-eaten cookie. It looked pleadingly at Chat through the purse's clasp. He silently agreed: _someone had to set his Lady straight._

"I am absolutely _hopeless_ the rest of the time," Marinette went on, "a total klutz. I wasn't kidding when we first met and I said I was 'maladroit', it's no exaggeration to say that I'm the clumsiest girl in all of Paris. I consider it a good day when I've only managed to run into a wall once - that blind corner near the locker room always gets me! I can't even-"

"You think any of that _matters_?" Chat Noir cut in. Because, yeah, it couldn't be denied: Marinette _was_ a klutz. But: "Most people, however athletic or agile, or whatever the opposite of 'klutz' is, they didn't get a Miraculous - _you_ did. And look at all you've done with it." He reached out, gently laying a hand on each of her shoulders. He had comforted her like this before; it had worked then, he sure hoped it worked now. "And just look at what you've done, even _without_ the suit. You dodged the Gamer's attacks-"

"-after causing Max's akuma in the first place," she interjected.

"-rescued me from Antibug-"

"Another one that was my fault, and I was _in_ _costume_ at the time!"

"-told me how to escape Evillustrator's trap-"

He was rewarded with the shadow of a grin. "Couldn't have you becoming the clichéd 'cat in a box', now could I?"

He beamed at the quip - he typically rejoiced over every dig she took at him, and this one came at an opportune time. "Well, the suit obviously doesn't affect your sense of humour. That sass is definitely all _you_."

She opened her mouth to utter some retort and stopped, surprised out of whatever she had been about to say. He was pleased to see that his words were starting to work - though they were actually _her_ words; she had said something similar to him after Reflekta had zapped him.

The memory made him chuckle wryly. "No wonder you thought it was hilarious when Reflekta got me; she turned me your favourite colour."

She scoffed at the suggestion, smoothing down the creases in her jeans. "My favourite colour is pale-petal, not fuchsia." He had enough time to realize these were both fabric swatches used by his father's label, before she added: "And I thought it was funny because you looked utterly _ridiculous_!"

He couldn't argue with that, so he returned to a debate that he knew he would win. "Well, I don't think _anything_ about _you_ is ridiculous - other than the fact that you're ridiculously _amazing_." Giving the compliment a few moments to take effect - he was pretty sure the half-believing smile she gave him added years to his life, taking him well beyond the typical nine - he moved on to more pressing matters. "This will be just like that time with Reflekta, when I had to help you without my powers. I _know_ that you can help me defeat Puppeteer, even without being able to transform."

" _How_?" she asked, all the signs of confidence he had carefully coaxed from her rapidly fading. She avoided his eyes, toying idly with a nearby feather-duster; he resisted the urge to back away, ignoring how his nose started to itch just _looking_ at it. "How can I do anything like _this_? I was at fault this time too, Manon was akumatized because of _me_. She only got upset because I gave her the doll against her mother's wishes, I shouldn't hav-"

"Wait..." At her words, a glimmer of a plan began to form in Chat Noir's mind. "This was all because you gave her the dolls?"

"Just _one_ doll. I didn't see the harm in it, but I shouldn't have caved, all because she did her puppy-dog eyes at me-"

"She wants the dolls," Chat Noir repeated, making her look at him as if he were a dunce. She would understand soon enough, though he really didn't want to ask... "What if we gave her more dolls? Enough of them to make her forget about giving Papillion our Miraculous?"

"I haven't got any more, I just made-"

"Well, not actually _give_ her more." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, using the back of his hand to avoid scratching himself with his claws; she hastily swallowed a smile at how cat-like the gesture was. "Just _promise_ her more. Really awesome ones. Spectacular ones, like those already made by the most talented, creative, nimble-needled seamstress in all of Paris." He tossed his head meaningfully in her direction. "I bet she'd like that. She'd want to have that genius toy-maker _by her side_ , don't you think?"

As she noticed the words he placed emphasis on, comprehension dawned in her face. "Ah, yes..."

He examined a cluster of spray bottles on a nearby shelf, hating what he was about to suggest. "You'd be able to get close enough to her. It's risky, without the suit you could-"

"-but I've been in situations like this before without the suit, and I survived."

Marinette stood up. A drastic change had come over her; though she was still dressed in her same set of casual civvies, she looked like she could be clad in her usual spots. All of a sudden, she was the girl who had stared down Papillion and sworn to protect all of Paris. Chat remembered all over again why he was so in awe of 'his Lady' - and his 'Princess' by no means had him any less impressed. He grinned adoringly at her; she grinned back, in a decidedly more platonic fashion.

"Let's do this," she said. Every ounce of her considerable determination was contained in those few words.

"Alright!" Glancing round, Chat snatched up a clean dust-cloth from a nearby pile. "I'll even provide us with the necessary prop!"

"A Chatty-Charm?" she suggested, with a smile.

He chuckled. "Something like that. Whatever it is, even though it's not my colour, at least that means it's not unlucky - since it's the opposite of black, it should bring us a whole lot of luck!"

* * *

The lights were back on inside the studio. The room became even brighter, as the double doors leading into it creaked open a fraction.

Puppeteer and her puppets tensed; phone, baton, stylus and ray-guns were all focused on that same point. A broom-handle was thrust through the gap; a white duster was tied to it, in a rough approximation of a flag.

"Truce!" Chat Noir's voice called from outside. "I surrender!"

The opening widened. Chat sidled in, moving slowly and cautiously. He held up his 'white flag' with one hand; the other was raised in full sight of his opponents, showing them that it was empty.

Puppeteer eyed him resentfully; having been left in the dark must have really rankled with her. "If you've come to admit you lost, just say you give up and hand over your Miraculous." She extended her hand. As if tugged by the same string, four other arms reached out simultaneously.

Facing an entire team of villains who demanded his Miraculous in perfect synchronization, Chat Noir fought the urge to clench his fist tighter round the handle of his 'flag', if only to reassure himself that his ring remained firmly on his finger. He flashed what was, he hoped, a disarming smile. "I know when to admit that I'm beaten," he said, throwing in a self-effacing shrug for good measure. "That's why I've come to negotiate. After how well you played the game, you deserve a fitting prize."

"Prize?" Puppeteer's ears perked up metaphorically; Chat Noir didn't allow his to do so literally. The trap was nearly set, and Puppeteer just might take the bait, if he continued to play the part of the vanquished foe. _Speaking of bait..._

"Yes." He adopted his most flattering manner. "It's a pity that such an ingeniously talented doll-master should have so few dolls to play with. That's why I brought - ta da!"

"Marinette...?" Puppeteer asked, with evident surprise; the fact that the akumatized child recognised her babysitter was encouraging.

Marinette had indeed lurched into the room, Chat having tossed aside his 'flag' in order to haul her in by the arm. She staggered and nearly overbalanced, just managing to right herself at the very last moment. It was so completely characteristic of her, Chat Noir wondered if she had really tripped, or just faked it to better sell their ploy. The sidelong glance she gave him warned him not to show any signs of amusement - _for his own good_.

"Hello Manon," Marinette greeted her baby-sitting charge. Seeing the villainess glower at the name, she fluttered on the spot. "I-I mean Marron- no wait, that is Marionette- uh, Ms. Akuma, ma'am." Chat Noir bit his lip hard to keep from snickering. Marinette longed to kick him, but thought better of it, fixing a nervous smile upon her face. "I've come to sew more dolls for you."

"More dolls...?" Puppeteer still seemed wary, but betrayed obvious signs of interest.

"Yes. Chat Noir was so impressed by how well you handle the puppets-" Chat nodded vigorously in agreement "-and he thought it was a crime that you had so few dolls to work with; and so he brought me here to make you some more."

They had definitely gotten Puppeteer's full attention: she leaned in expectantly, her four existing puppets all but forgotten. "What sort of dolls?" she wanted to know.

"Any kind of dolls you want. I can make all the different villains for you!" Marinette began to expertly reel off the names, counting them on her fingers; she focused on the ones whose costumes she thought would best appeal to the tastes of a little girl. "The Bubbler, Reflekta, Chronogirl, the Mime, Climatika-"

"Aurore?" Puppeteer wrinkled her nose. "Mireille is way better."

Glad that Manon was acting like herself, but cautious of getting on her bad side, Marinette changed tact. "Of course, since you now have a Copycat doll, you will need me to create a new Chat Noir for you." Chat gave a small, depreciating wave, managing to make his grimace pass for a smile. "And," Marinette went on, going for her ultimate trump card, "while ordinary villains are okay, for heroes as incredible as Ladybug and Chat Noir-" Chat hastily covered a cough "-only an arch-nemesis will do. You must have the first costumed figure to ever appear in Paris - the fearsome, awe-inspiring Papillion!"

"Ooooh!" Puppeteer's eyes lit up at the suggestion - then lit up literally, as a glowing visor appeared to surround them. It took Marinette and Chat all their will-power not to laugh out loud; though they couldn't hear Papillion's outraged protests, they could well imagine them.

They managed to get Puppeteer's side of the conversation: "What do you mean, Papillion? I want your doll, let me have the dolls! You said I could have all the dolls, you promised! Going back on your promise is so lame! Don't call me a child, you're a stupid-head! You had better let me have the dolls, or-"

While she was arguing, Marinette had been edging closer to Puppeteer unnoticed. When she was within arm's reach, she glanced at Chat, gave a tiny nod, and then snatched the wand from the little villainess' hand. Before Puppeteer could do anything more than gasp in surprise, she was already sprinting across the room with it.

"That's _mine_!" Puppeteer wailed behind her. "Give it _back_! No fair, give it-"

"So says the thief who stole from Marinette in the first place," Chat crowed. "Looks like you've been given a taste of your own medicine!"

He didn't have much time to exalt over how the tables had turned. He had other villains to keep tabs on: his partner's safety was at stake, and she carried a star-shaped target in her hand!

Copycat and Evillustrator were the first puppets to react, but they were still too slow. Before Copycat could reach for his belt, another baton knocked him off his feet and sent him colliding with Evillustrator; the box that the latter had been drawing dropped on top of them both, trapping them beneath it. Rogercop was next, but as he went to raise his weapons, Chat Noir was already somersaulting over his head, landing behind him and quickly restraining him. He was so much broader than the hero in his automated suit, Chat had to partially extend his baton and brace it against Roger's chest, pinning his arms down by his sides. Only Lady Wifi was left, and she was swiftly sizing up Chat, her finger hovering over the screen of her phone.

Marinette gulped; if Chat Noir got 'paused', she would be left alone to face two villains, with the others able to free themselves soon after! She glanced over her shoulder mid-run, veered a little to her right, then began to shout and wave her arms in the air, making herself as noticeable as possible. "Chat, I got it! The wand, I got it! Here, the akuma is in-"

Lady Wifi turned away from Chat Noir to focus on her instead; with a vicious smirk, she aimed a glowing icon at her. As soon as she saw it take to the air, Marinette stopped short and let her knees buckle, ducking under it just in time.

The pause instead hit Puppeteer, who had been standing directly behind her.

As soon as their manipulator froze, the puppets also stopped in place. Evillustrator had the eraser-end of his stylus pressed to the screen of his tablet; Copycat was poised with one leg raised, caught mid-step through the hole he had created in the side of their prison.

Chat Noir slowly let go of Rogercop when he realized the villain was stuck stock-still. Gazing wonderingly at Marinette, he gave a low whistle.

"Not bad - for a civilian." Though he was trying to appear casual, his unspoken admiration for his un-costumed partner was clearly apparent. He was very glad that Marinette still had her back turned towards Puppeteer; the victorious smirk on her face was all _Ladybug_ , and though the akuma herself was frozen, Papillion might still be watching them through her.

"I'll take that," Chat said, holding out his hand for the wand. "Thank you very much for your assistance, but please leave de-evilizing to the pros!"

Marinette raised an eyebrow, but obediently passed him the wand. Chat Noir took it by the handle, squeezing tightly; it snapped cleanly between his clenched fingers. He dropped the pieces to the ground, where a dark butterfly fluttered out of them.

"Go, Marinette, get out of here!" Chat instantly shouted to his companion as if he were instructing her, though she already knew exactly what to do. They had agreed beforehand that as soon as the akuma's hold on Manon was broken and she no longer at risk of being controlled, she would find somewhere to transform, then quick come back to capture the akuma. He couldn't resist adding: "And if you see Ladybug anywhere-"

"-I'll direct her back here," Marinette muttered as she ran, her tone a little disgruntled.

Chat Noir watched fondly as the double-doors swung closed behind her. _The more he got to know that girl-_

"W-where am..." Chat Noir turned to find Manon blinking at him in surprise. "Chat Noir...?" She squinted up at him, a distrust not dissimilar to her akumatized form in her keen brown eyes. "Are you the _real_ Chat Noir, or just a grown-up playing pretend?"

Chat realized now that he saw the _real_ Manon that he actually knew her; when Marinette had told him her name earlier, he should have realized that it was the same little girl she had been minding before. The one who had guest-starred in his summer fashion shoot. With a smug smile, he reached up to adjust the bell at the collar of his costume. "I'll have you know, little lady, that I am the genuine-"

"Is that... an _akuma_?"

Alya's voice interrupted him. Sure enough, a violet butterfly was hovering about the studio, rising in languid spirals.

"Get _away from it!_ " In an instant, Alya had dashed across the room and wrapped both arms around Manon, shielding her protectively.

At her shout, Nathanael stepped forward, swatting at the akuma with his gallery-program. Theo did the same with a nearby clipboard, urging both girls to take cover behind a large packing case. Captain Roger interposed his bulk between the butterfly and the children, reaching for his radio to call for back-up.

Chat Noir, meanwhile, did his best impersonation of a butterfly-catcher with a hole in his net. He swatted at it with the end of his baton, having to extend it more and more as the insect climbed higher and higher. He was trying to herd it down lower, but it was no use; it kept evading him, gradually gaining height. It appeared to be floating toward a vent set high in the ceiling. Stoneheart was still fresh in Chat's mind: if it got out into the city and found another host-

"Did someone call for an exterminator?"

Chat Noir turned. The broadest grin he had ever yet worn stretched across his face when he saw the triumphant red figure standing in the doorway.

"Ladybug!"

Six voices said the word at once. Chat winced; as one of few people in the room who actually remembered the events of the past half-hour, acting in tandem with these 'puppets', however unintentionally, was a little disconcerting!

Ladybug, meanwhile, was focused on the akuma. It was so high by now, its wingtips almost brushed the ceiling. She could try to snare it with her yoyo, but if she were to miss-

"Lucky Charm!"

She threw her yoyo overhead, but didn't aim as high as the akuma. When the rosy glow emanating from it had dispersed, something that looked unmistakably like a _very_ heavy weapon dropped into her hands.

"Whoa!" Chat's eyebrows shot up; Alya let go of Manon with one hand to take a picture on her phone, while Captain Roger made faintly disapproving noises. "When you said 'exterminator', I didn't think you meant literally! Isn't that kind of overkill?"

Ladybug obviously didn't think so; she was giving the rifle-bazooka-firearm-thing a besotted smile. _This almost completely made up for all the setbacks she had faced today..._ "Don't worry," she told her partner, with a sly wink. "When it comes to bugs, I have a catch-and-release policy!"

Hefting her polka-dotted weapon, she aimed the barrel carefully at the akuma, then fired. A large projectile burst from it with a loud bang, expanding rapidly in the air as it flew. It opened out into a net, which closed neatly around the tiny butterfly; weights attached to its edge brought it back down to the ground. The butterfly wafted vainly back and forth inside it, apparently unable to phase through the fine black-and-red mesh.

"Here's the catch," Ladybug said, gesturing proudly at her handiwork. "Would you take care of the 'release', Chat Noir?"

"Anything for you, 'Nette," Chat responded, earning a chuckle from himself, and a stern frown from his partner. "Cataclysm!"

He let the destructive energy gather around his fist, then reached towards the netting. As soon as his touch made contact, it disintegrated into nothing, setting the akuma free once again. A moment later, Ladybug's yoyo snatched it up before it had another chance to flee. As the pure-white creature began to flutter away, the two heroes turned to each other with fists outstretched.

"Bien joue!"

* * *

Ladybug scaled the side of the TVi building, then leapt to the opposite side of the street and vaulted over several rooftops. She lowered herself to the pavement in a secluded alleyway, depositing the bag she carried on the ground by her feet. She glanced around hastily, as her earrings beeped again. It had taken quite a while to return Manon to her mother and reassure Ms Chamanck. She had only just gotten away, after promising to return the dolls to Marinette, and she was running out of time. If no one was around, she could safely de-transform and make her way-

"The coast is clear, Princess."

With a start, Ladybug looked up. Chat Noir was dangling from the eaves of the house across from her hiding-place, his vivid green eyes fixed on her.

"Hey!" She glared up at him. "A little privacy here, please? I'm about to de-transform, so kindly go and-"

"That's why I'm here." Completely unfazed, he used his baton to vault onto the roof's peak. "I'll keep a look-out. If anyone comes, I'll let you know."

He appeared to be watching the next street over, vigilant for signs of any pedestrians who might be heading their way. He genuinely had her back - and anyway, he already knew full well who she was. Ladybug sighed, stalled by giving the deserted alley one final glance, and then dropped her transformation.

Turning away from his street-surveillance, Chat Noir found Marinette standing in the alleyway below, opening her purse to let her kwami get at what remained of her cookies. With a grin, he let go of the roof, performed a quadruple-somersault, and landed neatly in front of her. "My Lady," he said, going down on one knee and taking her hand for the customary kiss.

He was answered, as usual, with the customary poke on the nose. _Hey, come to think of it, Marinette had also done it that time when he-_

"I think you mean 'your Highness', don't you, oh faithful knight?" she said, in a teasing tone that only partially masked her nerves.

He got to his feet. "Her miraculousness, my lady-like princess," he suggested, dipping her a low bow. "The one and only royal Buginette." He took a step to stand beside her, offering his arm. "May I walk Her Highness home? Someone has to clear the plebians out of your way, and protect any poor defenceless butterflies that may unwittingly cross your path."

She huffed at his ridiculousness in such a familiar way, there was no mistaking her identity. "I guess you could walk me home, since you know where I live."

"Y-yeah," he agreed, though to say even that much felt like an admission of far more. How to explain that he had already been to her house multiple times... though this was the first time that 'Chat Noir' had officially found out that she actually lived above the bakery that her parents ran...

"But you're about to de-transform too, Chat," she pointed out, examining the blinking ring on his finger.

"So I am." He rubbed the back of his neck hesitantly, not sure how she would take what he was about to say. "Um, how about a fair trade? I know who you are, so if you want, you can also..."

She shook her head adamantly at him. "There's no need for that. You found out by accident, and you helped me out a lot back there. You don't have to-"

"Maybe I want to." She was rather startled by the fact that there was absolutely none of his customary humour about him. He eyed her intently, his expression utterly frank. "What if I told you that I just found out you are somebody I already know? What if I have to see you every day from now on, knowing who you are but having to keep it a secret, constantly lying to your face? Honestly, it would be a lot easier on me if I can just tell you who I am, too. I know you'd probably rather not know, but..."

He trailed off nervously. She was staring at him, stunned by his admission. _He was... somebody she already knew? Who could he..._ She had no clue - not the first inkling - of who he could be. But he was willing to tell her. He _wanted_ to tell her.

"When you put it like that," she said, once she had found her voice again. Her words were her permission.

"Okay, here goes." Taking a steeling breath, he took a few steps so he stood straight in front of her... and dropped his transformation.

He was more than a little worried that she was staring. And staring. And not saying anything at all.

Her mouth had dropped open wordlessly, so he took it upon himself to fill the silence. "Uh, hi," he said, waving shyly at her with a hand that wore a silver ring. He ignored Plagg's derisive snort as the kwami drifted into his pocket, zeroing in on his emergency stash of cheese.

"A... A... Adri... en...?" she finally managed to utter, after what felt like nine lifetimes. She had tensed all over, shoulders bristling and limbs stiff, like a puppet with its strings all tangled up.

"Uh, yeah." Her reaction was making him feel like his own strings had been cut. "Um... I told you that we might know each other in our civilian lives?"

When this was only met with more stupefied silence, he decided to abandon humour and try politeness. "Um, can I take that for you?" He gestured at the bag on the ground beside her. Considering the state she was in - or even without considering it - the likelihood of her tripping over it was pretty high. When she still gave no response, he picked it up, finding the Chat Noir doll topmost inside it. Unable to resist, he took it out, holding it up so he could see it better.

"Did you really _make_ this?"

It seemed to take another age for the question to register; finally, it did. Marinette stirred, focused on him, and came to life. "Uh, y-yeah," she said, with a bashfulness that he attributed to modesty. "I m-m-mean, I'd already made Ladybug, and she n-needed a Chat Noir, and I had black fabric left over from the spare jacket I made, and t-there was some yellow felt from the sachet I sewed for my mother ages ago, so I... yeah," she finally finished, fiddling with the strap of her purse.

"It is totally claw-some!" He turned the puppet over and over, admiring every painstaking detail. "No wonder you were able to get the costume so accurate," he added, shooting her a wink. "You'd done plenty of first-hand research, eh, my Lady?"

Still evidently reeling, she only laughed light-headedly in reply.

"Seriously, though, this is incredible." He closely scrutinized the way the ears were attached to the hair, noting how the stitches that tacked them on with black thread corresponded exactly with the pins that normally held his own costume-ears in place. "You could easily become a professional toy-maker with these, I don't blame Manon for coveting them! I know Alya would love to have her own set of dolls. I would too," he admitted, truthfully.

"Keep it."

Marinette's abrupt statement took him by surprise; she seemed to have surprised herself, but she rallied admirably, managing to speak on. "Keep it. I-if you like it so much, I'd like y-you to have it." She smiled shyly, though some of her former familiarity had returned to her manner, making her slightly less stiff and awkward. "Who better to become the owner of _this_ Chat Noir than the _real_ Chat Noir himself?"

"Really? You seriously mean... I can have it?" It was a pretty big deal that she was giving him - and a self-made item, no less. Despite all the envy-inducing features his room boasted, it was rare for him to get an actual gift; his father's birthday present to him this year was a rare occurrence.

"Yeah, go ahead," she replied without hesitation, actually looking _glad_ that he seemed so chuffed about it. She eyed the bag in his hand, suddenly adopting what he recognized as Ladybug's strategizing pose. "I think I'll give them all away. Doing this - trivializing what akuma victims go through by making toys out of them - was a silly thing to do, with dreadful consequences. It's far too dangerous to keep them all around; if Manon still wants them next time she comes over, she could have another tantrum, and this could happen all over again."

He nodded, vividly seeing her point; recollections of seeing his doll clutched in the angry child's hand still sent shivers along his spine. "That would be cat-astrophic."

She was staring at him again. He supposed he must have stared at her much like this, when he had first realized who she was. After a beat, she came out of her trance, laughing bashfully when she realized she had been caught gaping. "Uh, o-of course, if you don't want... that doll, er, the stick came off it, b-but it was- um, it became Copycat for a while there. If you want me to make you a fresh one-"

"No!" He clutched the doll to himself like a spoiled child, making Marinette hastily pull back her hand. Manon probably couldn't have done it any better; there was more than a passing resemblance. "This doll is _definitely_ a Chat Noir doll - you were thinking of me when you made it, weren't you?" He gave her a toothy grin that she well recognized; usually it beamed at her from beneath a black visor. She certainly hadn't seen it in any of her posters of Adrien, though it was the exact same set of teeth. "There can only be one Chat Noir. All other cats who claim to be black are just imposters!"

Marinette did an admirable job of not freaking out over the fact that for one afternoon, there had been _two Adriens_ in Paris. Even if Theo hadn't actually become the real thing, the thought of having been in the presence of _double Adriens_ \- when one on his own was more than enough to make her swoon - made her want to shriek and pull on her own pigtails.

"W-well," she stammered, pulling herself together as best she could, "I'm sure this little Chat Noir will be happy to have a home with the original. And your kwami," she hastily added, as Plagg stuck his head out of Adrien's collar, demanding acknowledgement.

"He definitely will." Shoving Plagg back out of sight so they could move out of the alley and he could make good on his offer to walk his princess home, he held his own doll tucked in the crook of his arm, carefully keeping it separate from the others. "So, these ones, will you...?"

"Yeah." Marinette gazed at the other dolls and flashed a satisfied smile, already picturing what Alya's reaction would be like. "They're also going to be given to their namesakes."

* * *

"Omigod, Mari, this is so adorable!" Alya squealed, using the tip of one finger to tap the tiny phone that her Lady Wifi doll held. It was exactly like its real-life counterpart, down to the tiny red-bead bug-charm dangling from it on a strand of thread.

"You do realize you just complimented yourself, right?" Nino pointed out, prompting his girlfriend to punch his arm with the doll's non-phone-wielding hand.

"Shut up, I never got to see what I looked like as an akuma. This is a perfect representation, and it is absolutely _darling_!"

"Y-yeah, this is great, Marinette," Nathanael agreed from the row behind them, his face nearly the same colour as his hair. As a boy, he couldn't act too excited over a doll - not with Ivan looming behind him, though he simply seemed to be looking on with mild interest - but he put any need for machoism aside in order to praise her creation. "It's very well-made. You got all the details just right."

"I'm glad to hear it," Marinette said, genuinely relieved to have earned his approval; since Nathanael had actually designed his own akuma-costume, that meant a lot coming from him. She glanced across the aisle, dropping her exuberant tone. "I hope your dad likes his too, Sabrina. You can give it to him, or keep it for yourself, if you like."

Sabrina said nothing - under Chloe's disapproving gaze, she didn't dare - but she traced a fingertip across Rogercop's visor thoughtfully.

"Those are so lovely, Marinette!" Rose gushed, leaving her seat in order to get a closer look. "I wish I could make something as cute as those, you are so talented!"

Marinette turned to look at her. Rose had been on her mind soon after she had decided to give away the dolls: if she was going to make anything similar ever again, she would use her sewing powers for good. "I actually wanted to talk to you about that, Rose. Don't you collect toys for Prince Ali's charity? If I can find the time, I'd love to make more dolls to send to kids in hospitals. I c-"

She was drowned out by Rose's excited squeaks, and half-throttled as she was thoroughly hugged. "Oh - could you - would you - _really?!_ That would be, like, _so_ wonderful of you, Marinette! They would make such a difference to those poor children, and I'm sure Prince Ali would be so thrilled, he's coming to Paris later this year so maybe we could give them to him-"

"I'll make as many as I can before then," Marinette promised. She might not be in costume, but right now she sure felt like a hero, in Rose's eyes at least.

"What about the Ladybug and Chat Noir dolls?" Alya wanted to know. She had pressed her doll's phone up to its ear, as if it were the one calling to ask Marinette her question. "You're not giving the Ladybug one away, are you? If you can spare it, I'd love to have it! I'll even pay-"

"Hey, dude, can I have the Chat Noir doll?" Nino interrupted, spinning around in his seat. "If no one else has claimed it yet-"

Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette saw that Adrien was staring fixedly ahead of him, the tips of his ears looking very red. With a knowing smile at his back - _who knew her kitty could be so modest?_ \- she faced Alya apologetically. "Sorry, all of my original dolls are going to the people I made them of. I already gave-"

"You mean Ladybug and Chat Noir _have your dolls?!_ " Nino exclaimed, bouncing excitedly in his seat. "Whoa, talk about celebrity endorsement! What did th-"

"You _spoke to my favourite superheroes_ and _gave them things_ without _inviting me_?!" Alya accused, leveling a disgruntled stare at her supposed 'best friend'. "Thanks, Mari, you know I've only devoted my life and my web domain and every spare waking moment I have to-"

"I-I-It was really spur of the moment!" Marinette defended, trying to appease her hero-obsessed best friend. "They happened to be passing by, and I was thinking I shouldn't have all the dolls together in case another akuma got into them, so I managed to call them over to my balcony-"

"You _spoke_ to them!" Alya insisted again.

"It just kind of happened," Marinette tried to explain. She had carefully prepared an excuse to explain why she still had her Ladybug doll - obviously she couldn't give it away like she had the others, since _she_ was Ladybug - but her friend didn't seem to be taking it very well in any case. In front of her, Adrien's shoulders were quivering with silent laughter - _fat lot of help he was!_ "I gave Chat Noir his doll, but Ladybug said I should hang on to hers, so Manon will have at least one doll to play with when she comes over, so I kept-"

" _You_ kept the _Ladybug_ doll?" Chloe evidently thought it was time to remind them all of her presence, much to everyone else's dismay. "As if there was anyone less deserving! You're nothing at all like Ladybug, she is-"

"Pfft-!"

Everyone within hearing distance of the front row jumped. Adrien had admitted a strange noise that sounded somewhere between a stifled sneeze and a strangled cough. "Sorry," he said, looking around at their startled expressions and wiping his eyes as he spoke. "I think a pigeon feather somehow got into my schoolbag on my way here."

He was _very_ careful not to look at Marinette, who was having a great deal of trouble not staring at him yet again. She was frankly amazed at how well he had adjusted to discovering who she was, in the middle of a battle and with her powers disabled no less. She had the feeling that it would take the combined magic of every Miraculous in existence to help her even start to come to terms with the fact that _the boy she adored to the point of being mortally afraid of_ _him_ was also _the partner she felt more comfortable with than almost anyone else._

With the bell about to ring, the students began organizing themselves for the long school day ahead, pulling tablets and text books from bags. Alya set up her doll on the seat between her and Mari, propping a comic book in front of it for it to 'read' during class. Smirking at how well-received it had been, Marinette bent down to get her pencil case out of her satchel.

"Hey, Princess?"

She narrowly avoided banging her head on the underside of her desk at Adrien's stealthy whisper. He appeared to be adjusting the strap on his own bag, but his green eyes glinted in her direction out of the shadows.

"Y-yes, Chaton?" she managed to murmur back, speaking without thinking and blushing when she realized what she had just called him. The way he gave her a gratified smile in return made her think that perhaps it wasn't too bad a blunder.

"Would you mind if my doll comes to visit yours sometime soon? He misses his Lady, and, uh... I happen to have Saturday afternoon free..."

Marinette thought that perhaps she had stayed bending down for too long and the blood had rushed to her head. It was certainly pounding in her ears; if she had heard correctly, _Adrien Agreste_ was asking... was asking _her_... out on a...

Somehow, she had the presence of mind to remember what she was doing that day, and despite the disappointment, her heart-rate at least dropped a bit closer to normal. "S-sorry, I already told Ms Chamanck that I would watch Manon then-"

"Oh. Well, would it be alright if I... tag along?"

Surely she hadn't heard that right - Adrien Agreste was asking if he could _help her baby-sit?!_ Either he _really_ liked kids, or he had particularly hit it off with Manon, or- _or, it was her that he- that he wanted to- that he would be spending time with- that he-_

"I w-was... thinking of t-taking her to the zoo," Marinette whispered, trying to ignore how Alya was pointedly tapping on the desk above with her fingernails, perhaps asking in Morse code what she was doing under the table with her crush.

"Sounds like fun," Adrien said, giving her the kind of smile that would have made her knees give way if she hadn't already been sitting down. "We'll finally get to see the new panther. Without it turning into a dinosaur and attempting to eat us," he added under his breath.

 _Yep_ , that had been the arrangement she had made with Nino - the panther part, not the dinosaur - and _that_ had been intended as a date, so this was- what he said was- _he was asking her on a-_

"S-sure," she somehow managed to say, perhaps a little louder than she had intended.

She caught a glimpse of the dazzling smile he gave her - just before the bell rang, and she _did_ whack her head on the underside of her desk.

As Alya made sympathetic sounds over her, still looking mildly miffed that she hadn't been included in Marinette's meeting with the superheroes, it took Adrien all his time not to lean over the desk and offer to kiss his Princess' crown better.

It was a service he would have gladly performed. After all, he was her loyal knight; and no one deserved to be treated like royalty more than his Lady.

* * *

Extra bonus ending:

"You never _did_ explain it."

"Hm?" Adrien watched Manon, keeping a close watch over the little girl as she stood on the edge of the red-panda enclosure, pigtails bobbing as she craned to see the cute creature that clung to branch slightly higher than her head. "Explain what?"

"The whole 'princess' thing."

He took his eyes off Manon to look properly at his princess. Marinette flushed slightly, but didn't turn away, like she would have done a few days ago. All through the week leading up until now, Adrien had been working hard at trying to make her feel more comfortable around him. He wasn't sure what it was about himself that made her seem so ill-at-ease, when Chat clearly didn't - after all, Adrien was just as famous, just as gorgeous, and just as witty as his costumed counterpart - but whatever it was, he was glad that they were making some kind of progress.

"Ah, that." He stopped walking, staying out of earshot of Manon while keeping her safely in sight; she was lingering over the red-panda, cooing at it through the fence. "I'm not sure what that was, actually. I was acting, and it was kind of spur of the moment. I mean, I was your escort for the evening, and it was a birthday celebration, which is kind of like a ball, and..." She didn't look convinced by this answer, so he searched the inner depths of his own mind for the real truth. Why _had_ he called her that? "I... guess I was thinking of the first time I met you."

"O-oh?" This time, Marinette coloured more brightly; she clearly wasn't proud of the memory. Then she blinked. "Wait, _which_ first meeting? You mean with _me_ , or with-"

"Our _second_ ever meeting, then," Adrien amended. "From my first impression of you - _Marinette_ you - 'princess' just seemed fitting. I mean, you were definitely regal and intimidating." He hastily added, "A-and I mean that as a compliment. A gentleman would only offer his umbrella to a true Lady, wouldn't he?"

He applauded himself on his successful attempt at flirting; Marinette had turned a colour that almost rivalled the panda that Manon was still admiring. "Oh, t-that was- You didn't have to- I, um, I mean t-thank you, and... I, er, still h-have the umbrella, if you want it..."

"No, you can keep it," he replied, surprised and touched by the fact that she had hung onto it. He'd had numerous other umbrellas since then; he often managed to leave them behind when he went anywhere, in the car or at lessons or on sets of photo-shoots. The way she had carefully hung onto it seemed to have some sort of significance - as did the way her cheeks burned the whole time they discussed it. "It's a poor trade, though, for the doll that you gave me..."

"No!" She overturned his self-deprecation, fluttering on the spot as if she had an adamant point to make. "No, it's great! I mean, it's a good umbrella! Well, it wasn't the umbrella... um, actually, it was- That time, y-you were- I... that was when I-"

"Hey, Marinette!" Manon raced back to them, pointing to a bunch of balloons that hovered in the distance. "They still have Mireille balloons! Can I have one this time?" She stuck out her lower-lip in a pout that was mysteriously compelling. "Pretty please? You _did_ promise me last time!"

Marinette sighed. Besides the fact she was sure she had made no such promise - with Alya was her witness - she had also been warned by Ms Chamanck not to let Manon use her 'puppy-dog eyes' to take advantage of her again. Glancing pleadingly at Adrien, she wondered if having her 'kitty-cat' with her this time would help; she hated being strict, so it might take some Ladybug-levels of willpower to resist that adorable expression! "Sorry, Manon, but I-"

"I'll get it." Both girls turned, surprised - and in Manon's case, delighted - to find Adrien taking his wallet out of his pocket. "Which colour do you want?"

Manon whooped and dashed ahead, chattering excitedly about her favourite colour. Adrien and Marinette followed, the latter barely listening to the girl's exaltations over how great fuschia-pink was. "You don't have to," she assured Adrien. "Her mother told me not to give in to-"

"I don't mind." Adrien pulled a few crisp bills from his wallet. "Considering that I ended up with one of the dolls she wanted, I kind of think I should."

"I-I'll get Ms Chamanck to pay you back," Marinette promised, not sure whether to be more impressed by Adrien's chivalry, or Manon's ability to lay a guilt-trip without even having to try.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Adrien's smirk. "She _does_ kind of owe me. Her daughter almost led me around on a string! If you hadn't acted quickly and Puppeteer had gotten me, it would've be-"

 _He_ was interrupted by a sharp poke in the ribs. "We are not in the super-heroing business for monetary gain, Kitty," his Lady sternly reminded him. "Since when do we ever expect anything in return?"

Adrien rubbed his side where she had jabbed him, but smiled happily to himself. If she was willing to scold him, she must be feeling pretty comfortable around him. "Yeah, we let a statue be made in our honour under complete sufferance," he deadpanned. "Does this mean you didn't give me the doll to make up for all those times you hit me on the head with your yoyo?"

He decided he really should start keeping a tally of every time he made Marinette turn the same colour as her suit - though he had already lost count. "I didn't- I mean, I _did_ , b-but it was accident- I mean, I d-didn't mean to-"

He waggled his eyebrows in the manner that she usually found particularly infuriating - coming from a certain cat. "If your aim is as bad as all that, I'll have my umbrella back after all - it might make useful protection from falling yoyos!"

"Oooh!" Marinette stamped her foot, much like she had done when Evillustrator had compared her to Chloe (he seemed to recall her doing the same in response to some puns that were perhaps only appreciated by a more _discerning_ audience). "I am hitting you on the head next time we're on patrol, as punishment for making that remark!"

"What, you'll purposefully _hit on me_?"

"Oh my god, you just- I think I prefer when you call me 'Princess'!"

As they bantered back and forth - keeping a watchful eye on Manon as she skipped towards the balloon-vendor up ahead - they didn't notice how a clump of bushes just off the path quivered slightly.

Nino peered through the foliage, careful not to let stray twigs scratch his glasses. "Do we really have to do this? They seem to be getting on just fine without-"

"Of _course_ we have to!" Alya declared beside him, leaning around a thick branch for a better view; she wished she could hear what the couple was saying, but they weren't nearly close enough. "It'll save me having to lock them in the janitor's closet if they don't come into class holding hands by Monday!"

Nino snorted. Much as he was also a (less-fervent) supporter of 'Operation Adrinette', he seriously questioned some - make that _most_ \- of his girlfriend's techniques. "You're just trying to punish them for refusing to wear head-sets this time."

"Whatever gives you that idea?" Alya asked, adopting a pious air that was in no way convincing.

He quirked a sceptical eyebrow at her. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Oh, and you're not?"

Okay, he had to admit she had him there. Even if Adrien's actions _had_ been well-intended, he still wouldn't mind avenging himself for the way he had been left hanging on his ill-fated 'date' with Marinette, his supposed 'best friend' refusing to show up. Besides, the whole fact that his bud had asked out a girl whom he fully knew Nino had crushed on - even if he had since well-and-truly moved on - really had to have some sort of repercussions. _Perhaps just not ones quite as harsh as this_.

"Do they really deserve this? Shouldn't it be Ladybug and Chat Noir that we do this to? Ladybug was the one who-"

"Trust me, I _would_ if I had the chance. For now, these two dorks will do instead."

Knowing there was no backing out for him, given the warning look currently on Alya's face, Nino sighed, deciding to claim that he had been coerced by her later on. "Tell me again what I have to do," he said against his better judgement, wondering if he could possibly be arrested as an accomplice. "It's the next enclosure-"

"Yes, the one just round the corner." Alya gleefully rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "My dad only cleaned it out yesterday, so it should be nearly spotless. I _could_ have picked out one that was long overdue for a tidy; but hey, I'm feeling generous. Besides, sending them into a cage full of hyenas is probably a bit too much."

"Probably," Nino repeated, in a mocking undertone which she chose to ignore. "So, I'll wait for your signal to move in?"

"Just watch, and give me long enough to distract Manon; then you push them into the empty enclosure, and slam the door shut. We'll leave them in there long enough to go get the key from my dad's office - and perhaps show Manon the flamingos on our way past."

"Hm, multi-tasking," Nino quipped.

"Like a pro," she retorted.

Reminding himself to never do anything to even _remotely_ upset his girlfriend, Nino reached out to fist-bump Alya in stealthy silence. Then the pair ducked down and crept behind another bush. In a minute, they would spring a prank on their respective best friends, the like of which would make them wish they both had superheroes' powers to help them get out of it.

* * *

 _Author's note: well, so ends another saga. I was wondering why this chapter was taking so long to write, turns out it was just long in general, even by my standards! I didn't divide the two halves very evenly; but can you blame me for wanting to end the previous chapter on that particular line?_

 _I'm so relieved that this plotline has been as well-received as it was! I'm usually a stickler for sticking to canon, so I'm glad no one has minded the minor deviances I took to make this story work._

 _It had nothing to do with the greater story, but I added Marinette's promise to make toys for Rose to give to Ali's charity on a whim. Every year, I give several bags of old toys to local charities, and buy new toys for a local store's annual 'Wishing Tree' drive. Please consider doing the same, you too could be a hero for making the effort to give!_

 _I agree with the guest who left a review: yes, I am also sick of Chat Noir becoming a damsel in distress/getting mind-controlled all the time. Having it happen once, as a big climatic development further through the series, would have been compelling - but this many times?! Yes, I get that Ladybug is kind of the star of the show, and it is great to have an empowered female super-heroine do the heavy lifting and save the day without having to rely on her male partner - but Chat is so reliant on her, which seems a bit unfair. He is certainly capable in his own right - I mean, he beat down the entire Paris police force single-handedly on two separate occasions! I like re-imagining situations where Chat doesn't become a burden or an enemy like he does on the show, I'm already planning on doing my own version of Princess Fragrance, though I know well enough to leave Dark Cupid alone!_

 _Eagle-eyed readers might have spotted that I borrowed a line directly from my favourite Disney- er, I mean princess film, 'Anastasia'. Just re-discovered it, I never appreciated how good it was when I saw it as a child!_

 _This was my attempt to reason out why Chat Noir asked Marinette for her address in this episode, despite already having been to her house numerous times: according to Chat's timeline, he had met her during Evillustrator and knew that her parents ran the bakery, but he supposedly didn't know that she also lived above it. Also, I imagine Adrien was trying to sell the illusion that he and Chat are separate people, and completely overdid the part._

 _I've found, strangely enough, that the hardest part about writing this series of one-shots is trying to decide which idea to do next. I have a bunch of plot-outlines written out in preparation and I'm constantly adding new ones, so picking just one to tackle next from my long to-do list can be pretty tough! Fortunately I've had a bunch of reader requests, so I'll try to work my way through those next. I hope you've enjoyed the stories thus far, and stay tuned! ~ W.J_

 _p.s. 'Miraculous' has made me decide to act on a longtime dream, and finally attempt to learn French! So far I've been watching Youtube how-to videos and listening to CD tutorials without much success, anyone have any tips? It's way more complicated than I thought!_


	13. Shirt

**Chapter Thirteen: Shirt**

 _Ladybug is not pleased when she finds out Chat Noir has been hiding an injury from her. She is even less impressed when she finds a blood-stained shirt in Adrien's locker._

* * *

"Ladybug, can I ask you a question?"

"Hm?" Ladybug only partly-opened eyes that she had closed to better enjoy the faint strains of jazz music drifting over the distant hum of traffic. Catching a glimpse of the city lights spread like a field of stars from beneath half-closed lids, she savoured the feel of a soft breeze wafting against her cheek.

It had been a quiet patrol. Though they had covered their assigned route as diligently as ever, they hadn't gone to the extra effort of scouring deserted backstreets for people in distress, or following the sound of sirens to possible situations - there had been none to follow. Paris was calm, and all seemed right in the world.

They were certainly not disappointed by how unneeded they were tonight. This was how things usually were in the wake of a recent akuma attack. There would likely be a few days of quiet, as if Papillion was pacing himself. Perhaps he led a civilian life as hectic as their own - well, Ladybug knew _hers_ was hectic - and so spaced out his forays into super-villainy, fitting them into his daily routine at times when he could best slip away unnoticed. If only they had such a luxury themselves. They didn't choose when they went into battle, they could only be reactionary - a fact she couldn't help resenting (as if she needed more reasons to despise their arch-nemesis).

Of course, more conventional emergencies that might require the assistance of superheroes had no rhyme or reason; but tonight, they hadn't had any of those, either. With their routine night-trek across Paris coming to an uneventful end, they had taken an early break, lounging against the slope of a rooftop while they waited to see if anything would happen. When nothing did, it became a rare opportunity for them to relax - _really_ relax, away from the pressures of home and school and homework and concealment and making excuses to both her parents and her best friend as to why she couldn't wasn't available for a gaming marathon/Skype session. There were often times when Marinette wished she wasn't Ladybug, hated having to deal with the constant stress and the burden of responsibility that rode on her slim young shoulders. Then there were times like tonight, when her other identity allowed her to run away from it all - for a while, at least. The mask allowed her to become someone else; and though that person certainly had a whole other set of obligations, she also had her own inimitable brand of freedom.

Ladybug stretched her limbs, revelling in how she could still feel a faint warmth from the sun-soaked tiles against her back, while the night air was not yet cool enough to chill her through her suit. How many people got to enjoy these kinds of sensations?

Well, Chat Noir, for one. She wondered if he also reveled in the way his mask gave him a temporary escape from his civilian life. It was hard to imagine him doing anything other than breezing through his studies and after-school chores with his signature wit and _savoire-faire_ ; then again, given the way he swung from drainpipes and performed hand-springs atop tv-aerials for the sheer sake of it, he seemed to wring every possible bit of enjoyment from his transformation. Given the long hours they had spent together on patrols - including some that had been far more exciting than this one - and routinely relying on each other in the midst of battle, it was nice to also share less-frenetic moments like this with him.

 _So long as he didn't spoil it by making a bad joke._

"You're not going to ask 'what colour are black cats in the dark', are you?" she replied with her own question - or rather, with one of _his_ own past questions. "Or 'what was bugging the ladybug?' I've heard those ones plenty of times before."

"No, I really _do_ have an actual question for you."

Ladybug did open her eyes now; she sat up, turning to properly look at her partner. He was perched on the edge of the roof with his legs dangling, one arm casually folded across his body, the other with bent elbow resting upon the concrete ledge that bordered a chimney, his head propped in his hand. His eyes gleamed out of the darkness, looking strangely phosphorescent as they reflected the glow of the streetlamp below them. His mouth was set in a straight line, and his expression was remarkably serious.

"What is it?" she asked, her senses suddenly on high alert. She had seldom seen him look so grave; and then, only during the most perilous situations in which they had found themselves.

His eyebrows drew up a fraction. "Oh, nothing's wrong. I was just wondering about something."

She heaved a sigh that was equal-parts exasperation and relief. "Geez, don't startle me like that!" The tension left her slender frame as she rose and moved to sit next to him, enjoying the thrill of swinging her legs back forth in empty space, knowing that she could easily catch herself if she slipped - and wouldn't likely slip. "Okay, what is it?"

"How does your 'Miraculous Ladybug' work?"

She was startled again, simply because it was not the kind of question she had been expecting from him. Something personal, something humorous (well, _meant_ to be humorous), something flirtatious that earned him a stern bop on the nose; _those_ were the kinds of things he usually asked.

"You're sure nothing's wrong?" she pressed. Was he indirectly asking her if she could fix something? If he was in some sort of trouble-

"No, not at all," he assured her. "I've just been puzzling over it."

"You and me both." She turned for a moment to admire the light radiating from the top of the Eiffel Tower, illuminating the skyline with its whirling strobe. "Your guess is as good as mine. I think it re-uses the magic that goes into creating a Lucky Charm, and undoes any damage it comes across. I have no idea what it's made of, though. I mean, I've seen it up-close twice now, when we battled Chronogirl and Pixellator; it kind of looked like it was made out of a swarm of glowy ladybugs, but it couldn't possibly-"

"No, I don't mean like that." He hunch forward slightly, shifting more comfortably into his perch. "I mean, how does it fix some things, but not others? With Chronogirl, it fixed that girl's watch, even though the fact that it broke was what turned her into an akuma to begin with. You hadn't even transformed at that point, had you?"

"No, I, uh... don't think I had." She knew for a fact that she _hadn't_ , though she couldn't outright tell him that. She had indirectly been responsible for breaking the watch, along with Adrien and Alya, and especially _Chloe_. For a few minutes just after it had been broken, she had been trying to comfort Alix, offering to help her fix the watch as her civilian self. True, she _had_ considered transforming and using her Lucky Charm on it, until her father's phone call had distracted her; Papillion's butterfly must have floated right past her on its way to its host.

"Other times," Chat went on, "I've de-transformed and walked past cracked shop windows, dinged-up cars and toppled trashcans that were directly caused by the akuma, but not fixed afterward."

"Is this your way of telling me that I'm not doing my job properly?" she asked, a little testily. She still had no idea where he was going with this.

"N-no," he quickly assured her, looking as if he might be metaphorically placing his foot in his own mouth. "I was... just curious."

"Don't be," she joked, giving him a nudge with her elbow that made him flinch. "You know what they say about curiosity and cats!"

Levity aside, she supposed that it was a fair query. She was curious herself about how these things worked. They hadn't really ever had a proper discussion about their respective abilities - not since their very first outing as heroes, when they had both been trying to figure out how to use said abilities for the very first time. Come to think of it, she hadn't ever really asked Tikki about the powers that the kwami bestowed - she was always far too busy taking them for granted in battle, or pretending as best she could that she didn't have them the rest of the time. Still, Chat might not share her love of ignorance. Perhaps he had grilled his own kwami for details, knew how his Cataclysm worked inside-out (better than the first time he tried to use it, at any rate!) and wanted to know how her powers functioned, too. She was slightly embarrassed by how little she understood of them. She _had_ given it some consideration, though she hadn't yet gone to Tikki for confirmation of her theories.

"As far as I can tell," she began, putting her supposition into words for the first time, "'Miraculous Ladybug' seems to function according to my own awareness. That is," she added, since he was looking at her with a mixture of interest and confusion, "it fixes the things that I _will_ it to, whether it was caused by the akuma or not. Like the watch: it was, uh, pretty clear from how the akuma was talking, that her whole reason for being possessed was to try to undo the damage to her watch. I guess I must have subconsciously instructed 'Miraculous Ladybug' to fix it for her, since I was aware that it was the root of the problem. If she had still been upset about it after the akuma had been purified, Papillion might have been able to get at her all over again; to prevent an identical incident, it made sense to fix the watch up, even though it hadn't actually been broken during the attack."

"You did the same with Buzz Saw," he pointed out.

"Yes, that's right."

The akuma they had fought a few days ago had been a master wood-carver, whose competitors had ruined his business by purposefully infesting his store with termites. The poor man had been so grief-stricken when he saw his craftsmanship and his livelihood destroyed by insectoid invasion, he had been manipulated by Papillion into becoming 'Buzz Saw', a villain armed with carpentry tools, who set about attacking anyone unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity of his store. Ladybug had been subjected to some _very_ close encounters with more pointy objects than she ever wanted to see for the rest of her defeating him with the help of her Lucky Charm (a pepper-grinder), she had taken care to use her Miraculous Ladybug to repair every single stick of furniture that had been eaten by termites (ironic, that a _Ladybug_ should be the one to undo the destruction caused by _other_ _bugs_ ). The grateful old man had actually cried tears of joy when he saw that she had restored his work, thanking her repeatedly before she was forced by her beeping earrings to leave the scene. A few days later, walking by the shop out-of-costume, she had seen an elegant wood-carved figurine of a girl with pigtails standing in pride of place inside the shop window. She had nearly tripped over the curb as she stared at it, it was so beautiful (and made her blush so hard).

"So, 'Miraculous Ladybug' basically cures whatever you tell it to?" Chat Noir asked.

"I guess so," she agreed, wishing Tikki was there to give them more a definite answer. "I mean, it's not like I have to mentally picture every single fallen brick in a damaged building, or every single item that got smashed by an akuma, in order for it to work. The magic seems to take care of the really obvious damage of its own accord. For extra things, though, like the watch and the furniture, I think I have to actively will it to work."

"I see," Chat said, nodding thoughtfully.

She wasn't sure if he was genuinely interested by her answer, or just being polite. She smirked, thinking of a related incident which would probably amuse him. "The opposite is also true. After we defeated Dark Cupid, I came across a girl - Chloe Bourgeois, you know, the mayor's daughter?"

"Yes, I know her," Chat Noir affirmed, with a wry smile. Ladybug grimaced along with him - Chloe was pretty memorable, for all the wrong reasons!

"Well, apparently she got a signed picture of the boy she liked for Valentine's Day, and she was rubbing it in the faces of a crowd of lonely, broken-hearted girls outside her apartment."

"Cruel," Chat Noir commented, shaking his head in disapproval. "It's a wonder she didn't cause another akuma with that!"

Ladybug winced at the thought of poor Kim's humiliating picture - Chloe had created one akuma that day, which was one too many! She didn't dare mention to Chat - much as she trusted him not to laugh or judge her - that the photo had been of the boy _she_ liked; she had been just as likely as any of those girls to be akumatized by Adrien's signed declaration of love. Or _would_ have been, if she could believe that Chloe had gotten that signature without having to resort to some sort of trickery.

She knew that though Chloe might have eyes that were _almost_ as blue as the skies, she certainly didn't have _jet-black hair._

"Well, she soon got her comeuppance," Ladybug went on, grinning to herself in anticipation of the story's moral. "Her best friend got hit by Dark Cupid's arrow, and one of the things she did under its influence was to vandalize the picture, drawing on it in red pen - goatee, devil-horns, bushy eyebrows, fake scar, the whole lot!"

She paused to allow Chat - and herself - time to laugh, though the damage done to a picture of Adrien had been nothing short of a travesty. Chat seemed to subconsciously agree; he stopped laughing and tried to look serious after only a few guffaws. _Really, what was with this new_ _conscientious attitude?_

"I didn't know about it until I went past after the battle was over," she finished explaining, "so my powers didn't fix it."

"Oh, that makes sense," Chat Noir said, as if this had fully answered his query.

She eyed him thoughtfully. "Hey, if you ever see any damage that I might have missed, you should tell me before I cast 'Miraculous Ladybug', okay? Then I can fix it all in one go and not have to find out after the fact, when it's too late to repair everything. How about that last battle? Did Buzz Saw destroy anything that I didn't know needed fixing?"

"N-not that I'm aware of," Chat hastily replied, "but it's good to know, for future reference."

She regarded him with a raised eyebrow, intrigued by this whole conversation. _Now that he mentioned it..._ "Hey, _I_ have a few questions I'd like to ask _you_!" If they were going to have a sharing session, they might as well make it mutual - though her questions were far more trivial, if no less perplexing. "For starters, how do those ears and tail of yours even _work_? The ears I kind of get, they actually allow you to hear things, so it makes sense that they can move; but what's with the tail? It seems to serve no practical purpose whatsoever, yet it has a mind of its own!"

He chuckled as he got to his feet, moving cautiously alongside the sheer five-storey drop their seats overlooked. "Sorry, my Lady, us cats can be very secretive creatures. Speaking of tails, though, I'd better high-tail it before I stay out too late and turn into a pumpkin."

He swivelled to face her, dipping his customary bow. "Good-night, my Lady, enjoy the rest of your..."

Mid-way through his sentence, he abruptly dove off the side of the building.

For a split-second, Ladybug thought he was just joking around, pretending to fall from the roof. However, she quickly realized that a) he would never just stop talking like that, b) he wouldn't jump from such a height without doing several somersaults to impress her, and c) he hadn't taken his baton from his belt before he lurched into empty air, something even _he_ was never foolhardy enough to do.

She had suspected something about him had been slightly off all night; suddenly, she was more suspicious than ever.

"Chat Noir...?"

She reacted quickly, getting up into a crouch while he still teetered beside her. When he overbalanced and began to plummet without another word, she was already reaching for the yoyo at her hip. If he was alright, he wouldn't mind if she reeled him back in; she had done it before and he had just laughed at it, joking about the efficiency of her elevator service.

She flung the weighted end after him, watched it encircle his torso before he had a chance to fall very far; once she was sure she had snared him, she drew in the slack of her cord, tightening the loop around him-

His anguished cry seemed to echo throughout the entire city.

She had never heard him shout like that, had never heard _anyone_ make such a horrible noise. His yell was so obviously raked with raw pain, it shook her nerves and caused her to fumble; a length of cable slipped through her fingers before she managed to grasp it again, causing her to unintentionally pull him up with a sharp jerk.

His cry petered out, replaced by an eerie silence that was far more alarming.

Bearing his full weight on arms that quivered, she held onto the line with fingers rapidly cramping, the cable digging into them uncomfortably even through her gloves. There was _no way_ she was going to complain about it, nor even _contemplate_ letting go. She tottered to the edge of the roof, carefully craning to look over the side without overbalancing. She couldn't see him well from this angle, couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not; but he was hanging limply, like a bit of bait dangling on the end of her line, not moving a muscle.

Cursing under her breath, she braced herself against his weight as best she could, putting up with the increasing pain in her back muscles through gritted teeth. Staggering a few steps towards the nearest chimney, she gave up any idea of trying to anchor the cord around it; she wouldn't manage it before she was forced to let go.

She had originally intended to raise him back up, but lowering him down now seemed to be the safer option. Letting out more cord as smoothly as she could to avoid jolting him again, she carefully set him down. Every so often, she leaned out to see how much farther he was from the ground; at last she felt her line ease, knowing that he rested upon solid earth. She quickly disentangled the line from around him, retracted it, and lowered herself after him.

"Chat-!"

She took a few steps towards him, came to a sudden halt, and clamped both hands over her mouth to keep from screaming out loud.

Usually, when she saw a random splash of her signature red - on street-signs, swathing manikins in boutique windows, as a lone umbrella wandering through the rain - it filled her with an irrational sense of pride. Now, she felt only horror as she gazed at the crimson puddle that was swiftly pooling beneath her partner's inert frame.

Overcoming her shock with an effort, she propelled herself towards him. She was thankful that they were away from the more residential areas of the city; they were surrounded by offices and businesses that would likely be empty at this time of night.

"Chat Noir!" she called out again, throwing herself on her knees beside him and tapping his cheek as hard as she dared, hoping it would rouse him.

His head lolled weakly, he didn't stir. His eyes were closed and he was unnaturally still. It scared her almost more than the blood; she had seen him napping many times before after a particularly tiring patrol, but even then he had been persistently active, pouting his lips and scrunching up his eyes in his sleep, the tip of his tail twitching lazily in time with his breath. Even the tail now appeared to be lifeless, looking far more like the belt that it really was. She noticed that his face was very pale, and not just compared to his dark mask; there was an anemic look about him, contrasting sharply with the pool of blood that trickled out of his suit, growing steadily beneath his right hip.

She bent over him, hovering with her face close to his so she could feel for his breath against her bare left-cheek (her gloves made using her hands for this task utterly useless). She was reassured when she felt a faint whisper against her suddenly-clammy skin; his breath was shallow, but there.

Next, she turned her attention to the site of the bleeding itself. What on _earth_ could have caused it? The edge of her yoyo's cable wasn't sharp enough to cut with so little force, especially not through the impenetrable fabric of his suit. Unless he had landed on something when she had lowered-

 _Oh no._

Ladybug swore long, vehemently, and silently to herself.

 _That_ was what the questions had really been about, _that_ was why he had asked her how 'Miraculous Ladybug' worked. He had been questioning her about it for _this_ , sussing out whether she could heal him or not. But if his injury had been caused by their last akuma, that had been-

 _Days ago_. Buzz Saw had happened _several days ago_.

She remembered now: when they had engaged him in close-combat, Buzz Saw had repeatedly swung his namesake blades at them. At one point, she had been backed up in a corner of the trashed store with no space to dodge. Before her opponent could come in for the kill, Chat Noir had swung at him as a distraction, giving her time to escape. The villain had lashed out at him next; she recalled his yelp of surprise as the blades had passed dangerously close to him, actually rending his suit. But he had seemed fine afterwards, swinging his staff with enough force to knock a flying buzz-blade out of the air and embed itself in a set of shelves instead of cutting her in half, as its wielder had intended. She had _made a point_ of repairing his shredded suit when she had cast her Miraculous Ladybug; she had even made a quip about excessive tailoring, and he had replied with some stupid joke about it being a 'close shave'.

She'd had _no_ _idea_... if she had known that it wasn't just the suit, that underneath it, he... _he was_...

She pushed aside the lump of crushing regret that was pressing against her ribs, making her heart pound in agony as if in penance. It was far too late to go back and do things differently. Pulling herself together with what was left of her battle-hardened nerves, she focused instead on finding a current course of action. She was ashamed to admit that she didn't have a very good knowledge of first aid. Should she de-transform and ask Tikki for guidance? But then she would have to explain Marinette's presence to Chat if he came round; and there was no way she could get him to help without the aid of her suit. Besides, crowded emergency rooms and nosy doctors were best avoided - even if it looked like he _desperately_ needed a hospital.

Before deciding what she would do next, she really should examine the damage and properly evaluate the situation. Steeling herself, she reached for the bell at her partner's collar, tugged on it firmly-

Nothing happened.

She pulled on the zipper a little harder, but it wouldn't budge. Trying to roll back the edge of the fabric to see if it was jammed, she made a worrying discovery: the suit was _stuck to his flesh_ and resisted all attempts to remove it. She recalled what had happened back when Alya had been akumatized and Lady Wifi had tried to take off her mask: her face had nearly come with it, the material magically bonded to her skin. His suit must be the same, and therefore couldn't be taken off, not even unzipped - not without his conscious approval. And he was currently _unconscious_ , would be for the foreseeable future...

Rubbing her head, she cast around desperately for options. His hand, lying limply by his side, caught her eye. Could she use his claws to slash open his own suit? She doubted she could do it without accidentally gouging him in the side, on top of whatever injuries he already had. Now that she looked more closely, she noticed a tiny scrap of black fabric caught on the tip of one of his claws. He had been clutching his side all night, she realized, now that she looked back on it with what she had since discovered; he must have torn the fabric with his claw just before he fell. Clearly his suit could cut itself, but her costume wasn't equipped with any-

She wanted to slap herself on the forehead for being so slow, just when time was absolutely of the essence. Her suit didn't have what she needed, but it _would_ , if she chose to provide herself with it!

"Lucky Charm!"

She hoped her yoyo wouldn't supply her with a rubber duckie, or a spirit-level, or a scented candle, or something equally unexpected, however useful it might be - not at a time like this. She wanted something straight-forward and able to _cut_! Scissors, forceps, a scalpel even-

A seam-ripper dropped into her hand. _Okay, that would do._ Not her first choice, but it certainly _was_ designed for taking apart clothes. She probably would have had one on her in her civilian identity, depending on which sewing kit she had slipped into her purse that morning.

She wasted half a minute searching for a seam in his suit to rip. Finally locating one that ran along his side, she inserted the hook at the point of his hip and sliced upwards, taking care not to get distracted by her earrings' first beep, making sure she didn't dig too deep and accidentally stab him. In any other instance, she might have examined the stitches themselves with interest; they didn't appear to be made from any kind of normal thread, but they held the panels of his outfit together very tightly, gleaming with a similar sheen to the rest of his suit. However indestructible they were supposed to be, she was thankful that her Lucky Charm parted them easily. Reaching almost to his armpit with the tear she had made, she was relieved to find that his suit was in two pieces, the end of his jacket concealed by his belt. Untucking the hem, she grasped the fabric and found that it now easily peeled back-

She rocked back on her heels, jamming the heels of her hands against eyes she had snapped shut to block out the sight. She bit down on her lip, the taste of blood mixing with the metallic scent already on the air, making her feel even more nauseous. A sob accompanied the bile that had risen in her throat; she swallowed both, only knowing that her gloves were wet when she felt tears sliding over the edge of her mask onto her cheek.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid idiotic cat!_

Why hadn't he _said_ _anything?!_ He had gone through patrol, running over rooftops and careening around like he always did, with that _gaping, festering gash_ across the right side of his abdomen!

How had he managed to act so _normal_? No wonder he had been cradling his ribs all night, had quickly stopped laughing when it caused him pain. He had shifted away from her when she playfully jabbed him with her elbow. His cries from when she had broken his fall still resonated loudly in her ears; her yoyo cable must have wrapped around the wound and _pressed_ _into it_ as it tightened.

She rested her forehead against her bent knees, fighting back more tears, brought on by shock and dismay, and - yes, a good deal of anger. She was angry at _herself_ for unwittingly hurting him, angry at _him_ for letting himself get in this sort of state.

Even before tonight's incident, he must have been nursing that wound all week, going through school and home-life and whatever else he usually did, without anyone knowing he was in terrible pain all the while. Why had he just _put up with it_? Why hadn't he gone for treatment? Why hadn't he asked _her_ for help?! She had been right there when they defeated the akuma, Lucky Charm poised and ready to toss in the air; at a whispered word from him, she could have healed him in an instant, without anyone ever being the wiser! Or at the start of patrol tonight - he could have told her then, instead of simply taking up the challenge when she had proposed a race from the Arc de Triomphe to the Trocadero.

All that time, he must have been in _agony_... and he had _never said anything_...

Another shrill beep cut through her inner diatribe. She had to use 'Miraculous Ladybug' to heal him quickly, before her transformation ran out!

She groped around for the seam-ripper that had slipped from her hand, cursing when it skittered through her fingertips; she was furious to discover that her hands were shaking. After far too long she managed to get a grip on it, flinging it up into the air as fast as she could.

"M-Miraculous Ladybug!"

For the first time ever, she faltered over the words. She hoped it wouldn't affect the potency of the spell. Though she well-knew exactly what she wanted to fix, she willed _extra hard_ for him to be healed. It had worked when she had restored her own pixellated limbs; _surely_ it would work _now_... it just _had_ _to_...

The seam-ripper rose in the air as if in slow-motion; then it turned into a single ribbon of magical energy that zipped straight for Chat Noir, encircling his waist with a glowing sash of light. It faded as quickly as it had come, leaving the alley dark and dingy-looking after its brilliance. The pool of blood was gone, as was the opening in his suit; she couldn't tell if the cut was healed, now that the fabric had closed over it. She held her breath, watching worriedly with her heart pounding fit to burst, waiting for some signs of life...

He frowned, brow crinkling above the line of his mask, and emitted a low groan. His eyes slowly opened, widening slightly as they focused on the face that hovered directly over his. He regarded her calmly, gaze still bleary with sleep.

"Hey, Buginette," he greeted her, as if nothing untoward had happened. "Is it morning already? I didn't mean to become Sleeping Beauty, though I _am_ pretty stunning. I certainly won't complain if you just woke me up with a ki-"

He stopped short when he noticed the roof they had been sitting on, which was now high above them; the cold cobblestones he was sprawled upon; the _very_ angry expression on the Ladybug who was crouched beside him. His memory of what had happened just before he blacked out came rushing back.

"Oh," he said, softly.

"I think you mean _'_ Oh, no _'_." She somehow managed to keep her voice level, though it was clearly filled with suppressed fury.

"Uh..." He cast around for the least-offensive thing he could possibly say to her. "Did you... find out more about how 'Miraculous Ladybug' works?"

"I _found out_ alright!" She was shouting at him now, all attempts at self-restraint forgotten; she honestly didn't care if anyone else could hear her or not. "I _found out_ as I was healing the _dirty great bloody gash_ _across your stomach!_ "

"Oh," he laughed weakly, "that."

"Yes, _that_." She loomed menacingly over him; he shrank away from her the only way he could, trying to press himself down into the pavement. "Why did I only find out about _that_ after you _fainted mid-sentence_ and _nearly_ _fell to your death_ and _bled out all over the place_?!"

"Um... sorry?" he tentatively offered.

" _Sorry?!"_ She was shrieking now; if she kept it up, she would soon be hoarse. "You _should_ be sorry - sorry when I'm _through with you!_ What were you _thinking?!_ Why didn't you _tell me?!_ You could h-"

"I didn't think it was that bad," he tried to defend. "Honest," he added, meeting her sceptical look with one that was earnestly pleading. "I mean, I _knew_ that Buzz Saw managed to nick my suit, but I honestly thought that was the only thing he managed to take a slice out of. When 'Miraculous Ladybug' fixed the suit, I figured that was that, assumed the slight twinge was just a ghost-pain from what _nearly_ happened. Turns out it was, uh, a bit more serious than I had realized. I only saw how bad it was when I got home, and you were long gone, probably un-transformed by then. I couldn't explain to anyone how I got wounded without raising suspicion, so I... took care of it myself. It didn't exactly seem life-threatening, and I calculated that Papillion wouldn't strike again for a while, so I should've had enough time to recover. I bandaged it up pretty good, I don't know why it didn't-"

"The bandages were gone," she informed him, in a tone that was still plainly nonplussed. "They must have disappeared when you transformed, along with the rest of your civilian clothes."

"Oh. Uh, right. That's... interesting." For perhaps the first time ever since she first met him, he looked slightly embarrassed.

For once, she was the one who wasn't afraid to get personal. "Why didn't you say something _tonight_ , then? Did you think I would laugh at you, refuse to help you, blame you for letting yourself get injured? You _know_ I'd never do any of those things! All you had to do was _ask_ , it couldn't be any simpler; but you didn't even-"

"I didn't want to bother you," he sheepishly admitted, playing with the tip of his tail so he could look at it instead of her. "It was so long after the fact, and it seemed to be healing alright on its own, so I-"

"That. Did not. Look. _Healed."_ Ladybug put a _very_ dangerous-sounding emphasis on every syllable she uttered.

"Um, I suppose not..." Still eying her nervously as he scooted away from her over the cobbles, he clambered to his feet. He swivelled his torso from side to side, bending at the waist experimentally. He beamed when he wasn't induced to scream in agony, as he would have done ten minutes ago. "Well, your 'Miraculous Ladybug' sure worked this time! It definitely seems t-"

"Show me." When he looked at her blankly, she took a step toward him, gesturing at his zipper. "Show me that it worked."

"Uh... show... you...?" He eyed her as if she was a complete stranger to him all of a sudden. "D-do you really...? I-I mean, I may not be a leopard, but just like they never change their spots, this cat is a little shy about taking off his-"

"Show me," she demanded again, putting her hands on her hips and planting herself in the middle of the alley, as if to block off any chance of escape. "Right now." Her entire pose told him that she would not tolerate any more attempts to conceal anything from her - even if there was nothing there to hide.

"Um, okay..." With no other choice but to obey, expecting - or hoping - that she might change her mind at any moment, he slowly tugged on the bell at his throat. It slid down smoothly this time, revealing a sliver of pale skin. Not quite meeting her gaze, he nudged back the cloth the slightest bit, exposing the barest glimpse of toned solar plexus. "There, see? Nothing to worry ab-"

She strode over to him and wrenched his jacket open, eliciting an involuntary gasp of surprise - whether from the cold night air hitting his skin or her sudden assault on his modesty, it was unclear. She cast her gaze over the unblemished flesh on display, looking closer still when it showed no signs of recently-knit skin or faded scarring. She even ran her gloved fingertips over his abdomen to make absolutely sure; he flinched and gave a startled squeak at her touch, possibly out of ticklishness, possibly from... something else. The only blood visible on him was the deep colour that had rushed into his face.

"Thank goodness for that," she finally declared, releasing him and allowing him to hastily do up his jacket again.

"I'll say," he agreed with an entirely different sentiment, still blushing crimson. "Well, uh, all's well that ends well, I guess. I, um, meant it when I said it was getting late-" He was cut off by another beep from her Miraculous. "You need to leave, and I should-"

"Go home," she ordered, "and get some rest. You can't have been sleeping well for the past few nights, not with... that." Her eyes darted to his midriff again, then fastened on his face reproachfully. "I wouldn't be surprised if it was _infected_. If you still feel ill, or have any other-"

"I'm fine now," he attempted to reassure her. "Really. You're the best medicine I could have taken." He rubbed the back of his neck; he had acted bashful more times tonight than she had ever seen throughout their entire acquaintance. "Uh, thank you for fixing me up. And thank you for catching me when I fell, it was definitely better than falling to the-"

"You're welcome." Her tone didn't match her words; despite his best efforts to placate her, she was obviously still _very_ mad. She looked at him searchingly for several long moments, then sighed. "Let's meet again tomorrow night, at our usual rendezvous point. If something like this should happen again... I'll give you a contact number, so you can call me for help whenever you need it. Even if there isn't an akuma around, you'll be able to find me, in case of emergencies."

He stared at her again, eyes wide, his expression caught somewhere between awe and alarm. "Uh... you don't have t-"

"I _want_ to." She glared at him for emphasis; then her gaze softened without warning, and she hastily looked away from him. "W-we should get going. See you tomorrow, at the usual place."

"Uh, yeah." He reached out toward her, thought better of it, and turned the gesture into a tentative wave. "See you then, my Lady. And thanks again."

Extending his baton, he pushed off from the ground, turned in a flurry of somersaults - likely designed to show her just how fit he was - and disappeared over the pitch of the nearest roof.

As soon as he was gone, she drew in a shuddery breath, then took off and tore towards home, sprinting as if every akuma they had ever fought and Papillion himself were all breathing down her neck. Her earrings beeped shrilly again, telling her that she had little more than a minute to get back; but that wasn't the real reason she was running so hard. She was taking solace in the mindless urgency of it, welcoming the sting of cool night air as it dried the tears upon her cheeks. At this speed, she could pretend they were caused by the wind flying in her face.

Just in time, she leaped onto her balcony and buried her face in the cushion of one of the deckchairs, as her transformation unravelled. Her shoulders shook, a faint whimper trickling out of her throat; she burrowed deeper into the fabric, trying to smother out the sound of her own sobs.

She had never felt less like Ladybug, never felt less like she _deserved_ to be Ladybug.

For once, Tikki's gentle nuzzling against her wet cheek didn't make her feel any better at all.

* * *

Marinette wandered distractedly into the locker room. She side-stepped a large cabinet that loomed ahead of her more out of practice than any real awareness, making her way towards her locker on autopilot.

She had been barely conscious of anything all day. How could she be otherwise, after the night she had just had? What little sleep she'd managed to get had been broken by fitful dreams. She kept jolting awake as she reached toward a non-existent Chat, trying to grab him and stop him from running away before she could heal him, chasing him as he slowly dripped blood all over Paris. Since the vision kept coming back to haunt her every time she closed her eyes, she began to welcome the wakefulness.

When she stumbled into class the next morning and Chloe made some unkind remark about the bags under her eyes being the size of portmanteau, she couldn't be bothered coming up with any kind of retort. Her usual excuse of having stayed up late working on a dress design seemed to satisfied Alya; though her best friend had done a double-take when Adrien said hello to them both as brightly as ever, and she had merely mumbled out a tired reply, even forgetting to stutter in her preoccupation.

Though Adrien usually took up almost every one of her waking thoughts, today she had an entirely different blonde boy on her mind.

All morning she'd been barely aware of which class she was in, let alone what she was being taught. When she had gone home for lunch, her mother, perturbed by her uncharacteristic silence, had hovered close, worriedly asking if she was being picked on by 'that Bourgeois girl' again.

During the walk back to school, Tikki had given her a serious talking-to. It was hardly the first lecture that her kwami had given her since they had gotten back from patrol last night; but it was the first that she had actually taken any notice of. _Yes_ , she knew that Chat's injury was not her fault. _Yes_ , she knew she couldn't really blame herself for neglecting a wound she hadn't even known about. _Yes_ , it had been up to him to tell her about it and ask for her help. _Yes_ , she knew that dwelling on it wasn't going to do her any good.

Knowing all of this didn't make her feel any less like she had somehow _failed her partner_.

By the time the school gates neared, she had agreed with Tikki that she needed to snap out of it - even if admitting it didn't immediately translate into reality. But she would make a concerted effort. When she got home, up until she had to go and meet Chat, she would try to redirect her thoughts toward the task she usually did best: obsessing over Adrien.

The previous day, she had started making sketches of her paramour in her art journal, documenting the thrilling new outfit he had just debuted at school. When he had clambered out of his chaffeur-driven sedan that morning, gone was the crisp white shirt that proclaimed him the charmingly-wholesome boy-next-door type. In its place was a sleek black biker-style jacket with a stiff collar and silver-trimmed epaulets. The sight of their resident fashion-god in this devilish new garment soon had every swooning female in the school recalling the bad-boy image made classic by James Dean (and several other icons they were too young to properly remember). He'd even seemingly adopted an attitude to match, side-stepping Chloe's usual morning hug and casually brushing off her typically-thoughtless invasion of his personal space. Much to the delight of all who witnessed it, the mayor's daughter had been left standing by the curb, looking equal-parts annoyed and enthralled by this rebellious new persona.

That wasn't all: the dark red t-shirt he wore beneath the jacket had made Marinette squeal internally, for reasons she couldn't explain to anyone - except Tikki, as she did volubly when they got back to her room. She had immediately snatched up her journal and begun to lovingly sketch an image of Adrien dressed in her signature super-heroine colours.

Here and now, wandering the empty school in a daze, it was kind of hard to remember what all the fuss had been about. Odd, to think that at this time on the previous day, her biggest worry had been scrounging for the exact shade of red that she needed among her pencils and markers. It was amazing how much her perspective had changed overnight. Now, after months of turning down Chat Noir's requests to get to know each other better outside of the masks, she was going to give him her phone number. In hindsight, she realized how irresponsible it had been to not allow themselves some means of getting in contact with each other when they were out of costume. It was a wonder something like this - or worse - hadn't happened to them already. Maybe, when the time was right and she had worked up sufficient courage, she would agree that they could fully reveal their civilian identities to one other. The privacy she had coveted for so long seemed so unimportant now.

She was painfully aware that there was something else that would be far, far worse for her to lose.

Dealing with that could come later. For now, her burnt-out mind was in desperate need of some distraction, as Tikki had suggested. In the turmoil of the previous night, her unfinished drawing of Adrien had been forgotten; she had intended to work on it some more after patrol, but her all-consuming passion for everything fashion- and Adrien-related had vanished after the evening's dramatic close. Now, with any attempts to concentrate on her homework well and truly out of the question, perhaps she could calm herself down by making more progress on the sketch. She would have to pick up a pencil at some point tonight anyway, to write down her number for Chat Noir.

Distracted as she was, she had gotten halfway across the quadrangle when she realized she didn't have her art journal in her bag, having to double-back to her locker in order to retrieve it. As she crossed the room, she automatically glanced across at Adrien's locker, even though it was closed and she had seen his car waiting for him outside. He was probably already-

She lurched to a halt mid-step, staring at that hallowed locker for an entirely different reason.

Something was poking out beneath the door of Adrien's locker. Something that looked like a scrap of fabric, something white. _Mostly_ white. It might be some trick of the late afternoon sun, but in this light, it looked like... it almost looked like it was mottled with... with...

 _Red._

 _No. No, no no no, no, no..._

She was imagining things. After the incident last night and how badly she had slept, she was starting to hallucinate, only thinking that she saw... Or if it _was_ , then there had to be some explanation, perhaps an accessory to go with his new outfit, a custom colour newly introduced to the Agreste line hidden in his...

No, she knew what it really was. She just didn't want to admit it. This was far worse than she had imagined - even worse than her nightmares.

With an increasing sense of foreboding, she walked over to his locker. Reluctant to uncover what she knew she would inevitably find, she tentatively took hold of the scrap of white - fumbling for a part of it that didn't appear to be stained - and tugged.

The locker wasn't latched properly. It sprung open, dumping a bundle of white cloth into her arms.

She had stared at the back of this same shirt longingly every day since the start of the school year; there was no mistaking it. Just like there was no mistaking the gory red splotch that was daubed across its front, reaching across the right side from hem to in-seam. She knew _exactly_ what the gash underneath it had looked like - in all too graphic detail.

She stood there rooted to the spot, numbly holding onto her find.

 _Him... it had been_ him. _.. all this time, all this week, all through school and his scheduled extra classes and modelling and gym and fencing training for chrissakes... through all that, he'd had it, he must have... he'd been in such pain, and... and she had been right there, yet she hadn't even known..._

The room was silent for several long moments. Then Tikki's voice said, in a long sigh of pity and compassion: "Oh, _Marinette_."

Before she could say anything more, she was interrupted by approaching footsteps, forcing her to dart back out of sight. Marinette was still too shocked to do anything other than stand there like an inanimate clothes-horse, her arms out straight and the blood-stained shirt dangling from them. There was no way she could snap out of her stupor in time to stuff it back out of sight and slam the locker shut.

It was fortunate for both of them that the person who came into view was the shirt's owner.

Adrien opened the door to the locker room, glanced around, and smiled warmly when he spotted her. "Oh, hey, Marinette. What are y-"

He broke off mid-sentence when he noticed the open locker behind her, then saw what she was holding. His eyes widened in horror, as if he had been caught concealing some evidence of murder. Which, perhaps he had - if it weren't better described as near-suicide.

"Um, I... uh-"

Whatever excuse he had been about to stammer out - an excessive use of lipstick at his latest photo shoot, a fight he'd lost with a ketchup bottle, early preparations for Halloween - it went unsaid; it would likely remain as much a mystery to him as it was to her, his mind too panicked to come up with anything credible at such short notice.

Before his mouth had time to reclaim any sort of functionality, it was disabled completely by her lunging at him and crushing herself against his chest. Latching onto the lapels of his jacket, she began to sob passionately into his red t-shirt.

Plagg had darted out of the way just in time to avoid her onslaught. Slipping from his hiding place and phasing out through the back of Adrien's shirt, he gazed resentfully at her for a moment, but couldn't hold a grudge... not when the girl his wielder kept mooning over was sobbing for him as if her heart would burst. He had no trouble finding Tikki, silently slipping in beside her. The two kwamis watched their partners through the open clasp of Marinette's purse.

"Uh... Marinette... You..."

Adrien's hands hovered up to ghost near her shoulders, stopped just short of patting her consolingly, and fell uncertainly to his sides again. _Had the sight of the bloody shirt scared her? Could he still explain it away? Should he-_

Marinette thwarted him all over again by pulling away from him without any warning, opening his jacket, wrenching up his t-shirt, and examining his bare skin through hastily blinked-back tears. Face heating up at this completely unexpected effrontery, he jumped when her fingertips gently traced the contours of his abdomen.

The touch was strikingly familiar. This time, it wasn't felt through a glove.

The realization of who she was slammed into him, knocking the breath out of him, as if her touch had been a violent punch to his gut. His heart seemed to squeeze painfully in his chest as Marinette dropped the fabric, buried her face in it again, and sobbed out a muffled whisper that thundered in his ears even louder than his own pulse.

"Stupid... you s-stupid, i-idiotic... _stupid, stupid c-c-cat..._ "

It was _her_. _Of course_ it was _her_.

Who else knew about his injury, except himself and Plagg? Who else would possibly know to check there, to make sure it had properly healed - just like she had already done the previous night? Who else... _who else_ besides _her_ would possibly _care about him this much?_

Without further hesitation, he stretched out his arms and enveloped her in a loose hug, resting his cheek against the top of her head so he could murmur into her hair. "It's alright, my Lady. This stupid cat is fine. You fixed me, remember? It's alright, you made it alright..."

She shook her head against his chest, scrunching up fabric that was already soaked. "No, it's _n-not_ alright." She struggled to get the words out coherently between sobs. "All this w-week, it was _you_. You have b-been, you were injured... you were in p-pain, and I was _right there_... If I'd known, if I h-had only noticed, I c-c-could have..."

"Shh, no, no..." He made gentle shushing noises against the crown of her head. "It's my fault for not mentioning it when I had the chance. You told me so last night, and you were right. I'm a stupid idiotic cat, remember? _You_ were fine, far better than fine; you helped me, when I finally let you. Blame your imbecile of a partner here for not helping himself."

Her shoulders finally stopped shaking, though she still snuffled faintly. "Fine, I _will_ blame you," she said, with a hint of that stubbornness he knew and loved so well.

When she finally lifted her head to peer searchingly into his face, he wasn't prepared to see those familiar blue eyes so tragically bedewed with tears. Those tears were for _him_. Though he should regret ever causing her to shed them, he couldn't help but feel a little bit elated, as if his cure was now well and truly complete; he had a clean bill of health for sure now. It was _her_ , and she cared enough to cry over _him_. It was far more than he deserved.

When she finally stopped crying enough to look at him properly, it hurt her to see those familiar green eyes beaming down at her, holding an admiration and gratitude that she did not warrant at all. To think that it had been _those eyes_ that had been screwed up in pain, _those eyes_ that had been forced closed... _those eyes_ that might never have _opened again_...

He reached up to tenderly wipe away the tear that had trickled down her cheek. "Cheer up, Buginette. I prefer to see you you smile. It would make me - and you - feel much better if you did. You're my best medicine, remember?"

Though his words had been meant to hopefully elicit a grin from her, all he got was a pout. No, make that a _glower._ "You'll need treatment when I'm done, kitty cat; I'm not through with you yet." Her words came out in an angry, anxious growl; her sudden switch from one set of emotions to another was enough to give them both whiplash, but she couldn't help it, couldn't stop. She had worried about him far too much to hold back. "Of all the _stupid_ stunts you could've pulled, you-"

"I know, I know," he said, giving her shoulders a placating squeeze which he savoured far more than he reasonably should. "You worry far too much on this alley cat's account. Though I certainly deserve any scolding you could give me, I can save you the effort. I've already been punished enough by seeing you so upset - and I'm bound to be punished some more, once my father sees that shirt."

"The shirt...?"

She pulled back to look at it, assessing the damage again. It looked downright _gruesome_. She realized, with an entirely new thrill of horror, that it had an Agreste insignia sewn into the collar - not a generic tag, but a craftsman's signature on a hand-made masterpiece, the like of which she had only ever seen before in magazines and books. This was a Gabriel original, and it was stained far beyond any means of repair. Freed from the fear of any physical harm done to him, she gulped at the thought of a priceless one-off garment so irredeemably ruined - and Mr Agreste would no doubt be _very_ unhappy when he saw it.

"Yeah, the shirt," Adrien agreed, heaving a sigh and reluctantly dropping the hug as she took a step away from him. "My father thinks I've still been wearing it. If he finds out otherwise has been the case, he _won't_ be happy. I'm not supposed to wear unapproved outfits in public, you see; but I couldn't let anyone see the, uh, _marks_ on it, so... I had to put it back on when I left for school, with my bag over it-" he winced involuntarily at the memory of how his satchel had banged against the wound with every step he took down the mansion's lengthy staircase "-then quickly change into this other set of clothes in the backseat of the car before anyone at school could see it. Father will want the shirt back eventually; it is a prototype for his mid-season range, he'll need it for when it properly goes into production. If he sees those stains..."

He trailed off, cringing at the thought. Perhaps he would've been better off falling from the roof after all.

Marinette sniffed one last time, swiping the back of her hand across her tear-streaked face. She was rapidly learning that she could display an unexpected amount of boldness under pressure. In a very business-like, Ladybug-like voice, she said: "Let's change tonight's plans, kitty. Instead of meeting at the usual rendezvous, how about you come to my place instead?"

"Wha-?" Adrien was sure that his side was healed, though perhaps he had landed on his head when he fell from the roof. Something had to be messing with his hearing; he thought she had just said-

"My parents will be out," she added, confirming to his disbelieving ears that there had been no mistaking what she said. "If you can manage to sneak out as soon as you get home and come straight over, we should have enough time to get it done."

She only then seems to realize how he must have perceived the meaning of her words; face practically sizzling with the intensity of her embarrassed blush, she stammered an explanation. "Y-Y-You can c-clean up... I m-mean, you use our washing machine w-without anybody knowing!"

* * *

Marinette resolved to never, ever let Adrien do the laundry.

As soon as the thought formed itself, she realized that in order for Adrien to have any chance of doing their combined washing, they would have to be living together; and if they were living together, their friendship would have to be at an inter-personal stage where they were comfortable enough to wash and fold each other's, uh, _intimates;_ and if they were that close, they would be- well, maybe it was better to just focus on the load of washing in front of her right this moment, before any grandiose ideas of co-habitation carried her far away from the task at hand.

The fact remained that he had no clue about fabric care - a shocking admission for someone descended from one of France's greatest fashion empires, even if it was unlikely that he had ever had to do his own laundering. He had gone to throw his white over-shirt and his red t-shirt into the same load, having obviously never seen any one of numerous cartoons where a full load of pink washing had comically resulted.

Marinette snatched his white shirt back to safety just in time, before he could pour a cap-ful of detergent directly over it. Holding it up before her and assessing the stains with a more dispassionate gaze than she had hitherto managed, she decided that the blood was far too much ingrained to get out with any amount of washing - or any other conventional means. Instead, she transformed into Ladybug, summoned a Lucky Charm - a bottle of liquid bleach - gave the stain a cursory spray, then threw the bottle into the air, the ensuing blast of pink light encircling the garment and clearing away the mark better than any cleaner could manage. It even smelled fresher, to boot.

Satisfied with the result, she de-transformed, only to find Adrien staring at her with his jaw dropped. Oh, yeah, he had only found out her identity that afternoon, and she had just transformed back and forth in front of him in quick succession without warning him first.

Not prepared to address any underlying implications of this, she focused on the clothes, nervously clearing her throat as she reached over to start the machine filled with his other shirts (he couldn't wash them in his own home, ahead of returning them to their rightful place, without risking his father finding out). "Uh, is that everything y-you needed washed, or...?"

"Oh. Oh, uh... I guess there's also..." After a moment's hesitation, he peeled off the red t-shirt he was currently wearing, sheepishly holding it out to her.

After everything she had already been through, she was _not_ prepared for a shirtless Adrien Agreste standing in the back of her family's kitchen. She quickly averted her gaze, the fact that she had already insisted on seeing his bare torso - twice - now completely irrelevant.

"Uh- uh- uh- p-p-put _this_ on!" she half-shrieked at him, holding out his now spotlessly-clean white shirt.

He did as he was told with a face almost as crimson as hers, carefully making sure every one of his buttons was done up, mumbling almost unintelligibly about having a spare t-shirt in his bag. She wandered dazedly back out into the shop almost before he had finished talking, stammering something about getting pastries for them to snack on while they waited for the wash-cycle to run. As she piled raspberry chouquettes onto a plate and grabbed a few mini-cheesecakes with tongs held in slightly-shaky hands (Plagg didn't help by hovering in front of her face, making sure she selected the 'cheesiest' ones) she somehow has the presence of mind to send Tikki upstairs, asking her kwami to take down all her posters of Adrien before he could go up and see them.

A few minutes later, the atmosphere around them was thankfully less awkward, though decidedly still rather... _domestic_.

While Tikki and Plagg lounged together on the rim of a plate which had held their shared selection of cheesecakes up until a moment ago, Marinette sat sewing in her desk chair, watching as Adrien, clad in his spare black t-shirt, lay on his stomach - the stomach _she_ had repaired - upon her floor rug, doing a physics quiz while listening to an audiobook playing over a borrowed pair of pink headphones. Tapping his pen thoughtfully against the open page of his textbook, he snatched a jam-filled chouquette from the dish at his elbow and tossed it in his mouth, chewing contentedly.

Marinette smiled at her sewing, shaking her head to herself in amazement. If she had tried to describe any of this scenario to herself before this, she would not have believed. Besides the fact that _Adrien Agreste_ was right here _in her room_ , she had no idea how he managed to multi-task like this. She often listened to their assigned literature readings while she stitched, but she had never tried to do two lots of homework at once.

As if in answer to her thoughts, Adrien removed the headphones and rubbed his head. "For question 27, 'balance the equation NaBr + Cl = Na Cl + Br', I think I wrote 'things without all remedy should be without regard: what's done is done.'"

Marinette chuckled, her mind skimming through a selection of Shakespearean quotes for the right response. "At least it wasn't 'out, damn spot."

He grinned cheekily up at her. "Why would I tell you to get out of your own room, Spots?"

Flushing a little at this Chat-like display of humour coming from _him_ , she managed to retort: "You'd better not, Whiskers, since I'm bothering to fix your shirt for you."

Adrien got to his feet with what she could now only describe as cat-like grace, padding over to watch her set the final stitch and expertly snap off the excess thread. "Did it need anything else done to it?"

She hummed thoughtfully before she replied, the small sound making his Miraculously-cured stomach do little flips, it was so cute! "I thought it could use an extra pocket for Plagg." She turned the shirt inside-out so he could better review her handiwork. "See, I added a piece of lining in an almost identical material. It spans these two panels and the opening is reversed, so if Mr Agr- er, your father looks it over, he isn't likely to notice the extra layer. There should be plenty of room in there for your kwami to-"

Before she could finish, Plagg floated over to investigate, a blob of cream cheese stuck to one of his whiskers, and wedged himself inside the spacious new pocket. He disappeared from view momentarily, then stuck his head out again to gaze smugly up at them, approval evident in his beady green eyes.

"Hey, it's pretty good, I guess," he purred, "but if you've got any more of those cheesy-cakes around, you might want to make it a few sizes b-"

"You are not going to use the privilege of knowing Ladybug's identity to scrounge free snacks," Adrien firmly interrupted him.

Plagg sunk dejectedly down in his pocket, muttering what sounded like "you and Tikki are allowed to do it."

Still reclining on the edge of the empty plate, Tikki lifted her tiny head and frowned in his direction.

"Hey, this is research," Adrien retorted, helping himself to another chouquette.

"Research _how_?" Plagg wanted to know; Marinette was likewise curious.

In answer, Adrien whipped a white handkerchief from his jeans pocket, showing off the lurid red stains that adorned it. "Tah dah!" When Marinette blanched visibly, he hastily added, "Don't worry, it's just jam."

"Geez, warn me that you're about do that!" Marinette railed at him, causing him to take a cautionary step back and hold up his handkerchief like a white flag of surrender. Much as she was affiliated with the colour red, she was getting more than a little sick of seeing it!

"Sorry." Adrien tucked the handkerchief away again, absently sticking one jam-tipped finger in his mouth and licking his lips like the cat that had got the cream. "But I had to do it in secret, in order to test it properly. I did it on my way in, when we walked through the store. I thought you might use your Lucky Charm on the shirt, so I stained the handkerchief on purpose, making sure I did it without you noticing. Your 'Miraculous Ladybug' didn't get rid of the mark, so you're right, the spell must only work on damage that you know about. Otherwise you'd think that it would fix-"

"You mangled a pastry in order to test my powers?" she demanded to know. She had notice him gazing at the trays of pastries on display as he walked in through the store, assuming that he was just admiring them. She felt slightly betrayed; she was proud of her parents' bakery and did not look kindly on her papa's handiwork being wantonly destroyed (even if they _were_ made to be eaten).

He wore a guilty expression that would not have looked out of place on a fallen cherub. "I, uh, fully intended to buy the pastry that I maimed. I wouldn't have left it there, where it could have ended up going to another customer. Luckily for us both, you put it on the plate with the others; I recognized it and ate it first."

She managed to frown at him, despite how devilishly, _deliciously_ roguish he looked, with a dab of raspberry clinging to the corner of his mouth. "No more experiments," she warned him, making her tone as stern as she could while gazing fixedly at his jam-smeared lips. "I've found out more than enough about what my powers can and can't do for the time being, thank you."

"Agreed," Adrien said meaningfully, touching his side as he carefully transferred a few stray crumbs from his notes to his napkin with his free hand. "Much as I'm a fan of Ladybug, right now I'm far more interested in Marinette's super-powers." He favoured her with a lusty wink. "You can sew, cook, draw - nice work, by the way, very good likeness-" he gestured approvingly at the open sketchbook on her desk, making her turn almost as red as the t-shirt she had drawn him in "-clean up clothes so that they're good as new, listen to pithy English playwrights while you stitch spare pockets for kwamis. Is there anything you _can't_ do?"

Though her face was tinged pink by his blatant flattery, she was still somehow able to playfully aim her pin-cushion across the room at him. "I _could_ be a bit better at herding cats."

"Hey!" he protested, scurrying to catch the pin-cushion that had bounced off his arm before it could land among the mound of chouquettes.

Marinette chuckled when he tried to steal the pastries away from her, watching his green eyes dance with life and laughter as he strained away from her grasp. Leaning back languidly in her chair as if in defeat, she smirked and took a chouquette from the plate he finally relented and offered her.

After a night spent frantically worrying over his well-being, she finally knew that her idiotic alley-cat was safe, well-fed, and finely-clothed. Nothing could possibly relax her more than seeing him like this: sitting on her floor rug, skimping on his homework, telling her terrible jokes around a mouthful of raspberry jam.

* * *

 _Author's note: finally done! It seemed like I've been working on this for a very long while; in the middle of it, I had the flu for more than a month, then had to play catch-up with all the work I got behind on while I was sick, getting more and more behind in my writing. Sorry it's been such a long time coming!_

 _A need for first-aid seems to be fast becoming a running theme in my stories, which is ridiculous since I know next to nothing about it. This one was for 'Aeon The Dimensional Girl', who requested a story where one of the heroes got hurt - anyone who didn't like seeing Chat Noir suffer, please blame her!_

 _The description of how Ladybug's healing power works is entirely my own speculation, on the show it seems a bit inconsistent in what it chooses to fix or not-fix. As with so many other things, I wonder if there will be an explanation of it at some point in future episodes of the show._

 _I could have chosen any kind of pastry to include in the end scene (so long as it contained red jam), but the chouquettes were inspired by the conversation Chat Noir had with Nadja Chamanck in 'Audimatrix', which I thought was the cutest thing ever! A quick reminder to readers: please avoid mentioning spoilers for season 2 in your reviews, other readers might not be as far through their viewing as you are (including me!) so please try not to give away anything important._

 _I really should get back to my other Miraculous fic next, it's been stuck on a cliffhanger for a long time, though I've almost completed the next chapter. For this fic, I actually got an idea for a 'Marinette gets injured' story while I was writing this installment; and I've had so many requests to do the history textbook from the 'Pharaoh' episode, I can hardly deprive my loyal readers! So I will likely do one of those two ideas next. I hope everyone enjoys both stories, please stay tuned for more!_

 _Cheers, ~ W.J._

 _p.s. my French lessons went well for a while, then petered out - it was hard to practice pronunciation when my throat was so sore I couldn't speak. Thanks for all the tips, everyone, the University of Texas site was particularly helpful!_


End file.
